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REV. ASHER WRIGHT. 


OUR LIFE AMONG THE 
IROQUOIS INDIANS 


BY 


MRS. HARRIET S. CASWELL 


TfL live, this accursed system of robbery and shame in our 
tre«:‘ment of the Indians shall be reformed, —ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 


BOSTON AND CHICAGO 


Congregational Sundav-School and ublishing Society 


COPYRIGHT, 1892, 


BY CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL AND PUBLISHING SOCTETY,. 


Dedicated 
to 


Che Froquois 


and 


His Friends 


396138 


- eo? 


ee ed 


PREFACE. 


FEW hours’ ride from the nearest railroad station in a 
pt wagon not the easiest, over a road not the smoothest, 
meeting with narrow escapes as to mud holes and deep ruts, and 
you will find yourself upon the Cattaraugus Indian Reservation. 
You might as well be west of the Rocky Mountains for any indica- 
tions of the pale face that you see here. Indians in the homes, on 
the roads, working on the farms, and building houses; Indian chil- 
dren with ball clubs, snow snakes, and arrows; Indian babies upon 
the backs of their mothers; Indian corn bread boiling in the kettles 
under the trees; Indians here, there, andeverywhere. The straight 
black hair and shining black eyes that mark the race everywhere 
meet you here. You hear the curious intonations of the strange 
language all about you, and yet you are only thirty miles south of 
Buffalo and five hundred miles from New York City. As you ride 
through the Reservation you note many farms of which Indian 
owners may well be proud and others of which they should be 
ashamed. You will see corn, wheat, potatoes, tomatoes, and other 
products of the farm in better condition than those of the neigh- 
boring white man; and you will see the crops of others sadly 
choked with weeds and perishing for want of care. The owners 
of these last expect to live next winter upon the corn and beans 
and potatoes of their more industrious neighbors. Would that 
for white man and for Indian the ancient law might be enforced, 
“Tf a man will not work, neither shall he eat,” 

A few years ago the old Mission church was rapidly falling into 
decay. Now you hear the progressive sound of the hammer and 
saw. This church building, which the Indians are repairing with 


V 


eS 


vi LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


their own hands, was erected thirty-five years ago through the 
efforts of Father Gleason. Have this people been taught the trade 
of the carpenter, the mason, the paper hanger? No. And yet 
they can design and build a house, plaster and paint it, and when 
out of repair make it over as good as new. This Mission church 
is the prettiest church in this part of the country. The walls have 
been delicately tinted and ornamented, the pulpit and seats re- 
modeled, and this, with the painting and other repairs, has all been 
done by Indians. The only exception is the “ graining,’? which 
was the work of a white man, who, having once plied his trade 
in plain sight of those sharp eyes, will never more be needed in 
Indian land. 

Why are Indians of all tribes natural mechanics? How is it 
that they use all trades without instruction in any? What a 
blessed movement in Indian affairs is this experiment in indus- 
trial education now carried on at Hampton, Carlisle, Santee, and 
at Lawrence, Kansas ! 

You decide to spend the Sabbath. It proves to be the rededica- 
tion of the newly repaired church. It is a highly satisfied looking 
congregation that fills the freshly painted seats. The remodeled 
pulpit is occupied by the missionary and his Indian interpreter. 
Upon the same platform a fine choir of young men give us 
musical selections accompanied by the cornet played by one of the 
Indian brass band. The cabinet organ is admirably managed by 
an Indian maiden. The music is soul-inspiring. The sermon upon 
the text, ‘‘ The glory of the Lord filled the temple,” describes the 
experience of the Israelites under similar circumstances. The 
preacher believes that the time has come when this Indian church, 
having fulfilled the conditions, may expect the glorious experience 
of the builders of old. The sermon is well adapted to their needs 
and very practical, especially when the hearers are exhorted not 
to defile the house of God by the use of tobacco within its sacred 
walls. The people bear this sharp thrust at their fayorite weed 
with their usual dignified composure, 


spre” js aja ee 
PREFACE. vii 


Having lifted the curtain a moment to take a glance at the 
present condition of these Indians, let us turn back to the begin- 
ning of a life which for more than half a century is to be closely 
interwoven with every dark thread and every bright thread of 
their history. 


Pha Rue Y 


ae 
i 
i Wea 
‘ee 


wo | 


INTRODUCTION. 


ISHOP WHIPPLE says: ‘‘ The Indian is not an idolater. 
His universe is peopled with spirits. He recognizes the 
Great Spirit; he believes in a future life. I have never known 
one instance where the Indian was the first to violate plighted 
faith. Thirty years ago our Indian system was at its worst; 
it was a blunder and a crime. It established heathen almshouses 
to graduate savage paupers. In my boyhood a sainted mother 
taught me to defend the weak. I believed that these wandering 
red men were children of one God and Father and that he loved 
them as he loved us. I vowed that, God being my helper, I would 
never turn my back on the heathen at my door. I have tried to 
keep this vow.” 

However stolid and impassive an Indian may look, do not assume 
that he is stupid. While Bishop Whipple was visiting an Indian 
mission, the people were holding a scalp dance quite near. The 
bishop was indignant. He went to the head chief and said : — 

‘¢ Wabasha, you ask me for a missionary; I give him to you. I 
visit you, and the first sight is this brutal scalp dance. I knew the 
man whom you have murdered. He had a wife and children; his 
wife is crying for her husband, his children are asking for their 
father. Wabasha, the Great Spirit hears his children cry. He is 
angry. Some day he will ask, ‘Wabasha, where is your red 
brother?’ ” 

The old chief smiled, drew his pipe from his mouth, blew a 
cloud of smoke upward, and said :— 

‘White man go to war with his own brother in the same coun- 
try; he kill more men than Wabasha can count in all his life. 


ix 


a ae se: 


tthe, 
x LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 
Great Spirit smiles and says, ‘He good white man; he has my 
Book; I love him very much; I have good place for him by-and- 
by.’ The Indian is a wild man; he has no Spirit-Book. He kill 
one man; he have a scalp dance; Great Spirit is mad, and says, 
‘Bad Indian! I will put him in a bad place by-and-by.? Wabasha 
don’t believe it.” 

No, the Indian is not stupid. He is keenly observant, and quick 
to note absurdity in an argument or inconsistency in a life. He 
has his opinions upon the problems of the day, and when you get 
at his thought you are startled at its relevancy. This statement 
will, I think, be verified in these glimpses of our everyday life 
among the Senecas, and that which the Senecas have told me 
about the Iroquois in general. 

I have been urged to publish these reminiscences as a tribute 
to the rare ability and devotion of two missionaries, and also to 
throw a side light upon the history and character of a fast-vanish- 
ing race. 

The Iroquois, long before the white man knew this country, 
had established his headquarters in New York State. He called it 
the ‘‘ Long House,” and Lake Erie, the *‘ front door,” was guarded 
by the Senecas. The Iroquois represented a powerful confederacy 
of six nations: the Senecas, Tuscaroras, Cayugas, Onondagas, 
Oneidas, and Mohawks. This last nation guarded the ‘rear 
door” of the ‘‘ Long House,’’ the Hudson River. The history of 
this curious confederacy told by an Indian as received from his 
ancestors will be read with peculiar interest. 

If this simple story of everyday life among the once formidable 
Iroquois open the eyes of any reader to brighter and hitherto un- 
appreciated phases of Indian character; if it incite a throb of 
interest in this unfortunate race; if the record of these heroic 
lives, willingly given for their redemption, shall inspire one young 
Christian to carry to the Indian the tidings of his divine inherit- 
ance, — these pages will have accomplished their purpose. 


eongglae 


Ill. 


ives 


VI. 


VII. 


CONTENTS. 


THE CHILD:— Adoption.—The Little Runaway. — 
A. Child Prayer Meeting. — The Sampler 


THE MAIDEN : — Boarding School. — Essays. — 
Teaching School. — Local Catechism.— A New 
Correspondent. — The Unseen Lover : 


THE BRIDE:—The Wedding Journey.—-Old Log 
Mission House. — Reception by the Indians. — The 
Gift of Tongues. — Missionary Diet : : 


THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. — The Horse and Saddle- 
bags. —‘‘ Miss Bishop! he can’t mad!’ — Deacon 
Fish Hook’s Opinion. — The Cholera. — Translating 
the Scriptures.— The Mission Church. — ‘*‘ White 
Man’s Bread.” — The Light of the Mission. — The 
First Letter. — Experiences 4 3 ; ‘ ‘ 


THE FosTER MOTHER: — Catherine King. — Martha 
Hoyt. — Asher Wright Two-Guns.— Louisa Jones. 
— Henry Morrison. — Phinie Sheldon 


VISIT TO VERMONT:— The Canal Boat.— Indian 
Children. — The Inverted Album 


WHITE CapTivEsS: — Old White Chief. — Mary 
Jemison. —The Old Indian Burial Ground 


PAGE 


21 


27 


35 
45 


51 


LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 
PAGE 

VIII. INDIAN CHARACTERS: — Young-King. — Chief In- gs 
fant.— Fish Hook tf OBO Te eS i 


IX. THE SEVEN YEARS’ TROUBLE: —The White Man’s hit 
Treaty. — Removal. — Touching Tribute. — A Bit of : 
Yellow Paper. — The Indian Revolution . : - 13 
A. 
X. A BOSTON GIRL AMONG THE INDIANS: —‘“ Auntie ie 


Wright.” — Dogs and Babies at Church. — Boarding 
with an Indian Chief. — Teaching School. — Tests of 
Courage. — Dividing the Log. — ‘‘ Pray, father! ”? — 
The Lace Sleeves. — Clean Mouths and Clear Brains. 
— An Indian Martyr.— Adopted into the Tribe. — 
Taken Home PP oe eC 


XI. THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM: — “‘ Great many 
goods.” — Narrow Escape. — ‘‘ Be very stingy of 
me!’”—Our Johnny.—The Little Bird. — “See! vn 
See!? — The Stolen Baby. —The Revival. —Indian Fi 
Child’s Prayer.— ‘TI looked mad!” — Children’s 
Letters. — Blue Sky. — A Novel Gift el oie 


XII. By THE Way:—The Old-fashioned Chaise. — Peter 
Twenty-Canoes. —The Young Infidel. — A Combina- 
tion Plenic Waren et sania) tsa =) bee Pyne bint . 


XIII. AMONG THE PAGANS:— The Wonderful Box. — Story 
of Logan. — Mrs. George Washington. — John 
Hudson. —John Logan.— Moses Crow. — Grand- 
mother Destroytown. — A Day Among the Pagans. § 
— Mr. Porcupine. — Moses Cornplanter. — Mrs. Big 
Kettle. — Mrs. Black Snake. — Mrs. Johnny John. 
— The Bottomless Buggy. — Industrial Education. + 
— The Pagan Prophet. — Feasts and Dances . . 151 


CONTENTS. xiii 

PAGE 
THE MYSTERIOUS PasT:—Origin of Good and Evil. 
— Before Columbus.— Two Hundred Years Ago.— 
Indian Funerals. — The Long House. — Wampum 
Belt. — The Calumet.— Who were the Kah-gwas? 


— The Frogs. — Looking into the Future . - 229 
INDIAN ELOQUENCE . 2 via RY FH nS 
‘A WEDDING LIKE WHITE PEOPLE” . : Hangent | 
EXTRACTS FROM MRS. WRIGHT’S LETTERS +202 
LAST MESSAGES . : ; : : : : oe 
TESTIMONIES : . . F ‘ SANs i - 805 


CONCLUSION e . . . . ° . «molt 


IF I live; this accursed system of robbery and shame in our 
treatment of the Indians shall be reformed. 
— ABRAHAM LINCOLEN. 


TREAT him not as an American Indian, but as an Indian 
American. When the significance of this designation is practi- 
cally accepted there will be a very radical revolution in Indian 
American affairs. —- COMMISSIONER MORGAN. 


EVERY human being born upon our continent, or who comes 
here from any quarter of the world, whether savage or civilized, 
can go to our courts for protection—except those who belong to 
the tribes who once owned this country. The cannibal from the 
islands of the Pacific, the worst criminal from Europe, Asia, or 
Africa can appeal to the law and courts for his rights of person 
and property — all, save our native Indians, who above all should 
be protected from wrong. —GOVERNOR HORATIO SEYMOUR. 


Mrs. Laura M. WRIGHT. 


QUR LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


I. 
THE CHILD. 


N the fine old town of St. Johnsbury, Vermont, 
on the morning of July 10, 1809, an event of 
considerable interest occurred in a certain family of 
wide-awake boys and girls —the grandchildren, in 
fact, of that well-known Vermont pioneer, Willard 
Stevens. For on this morning they welcomed into 


2 


their circle the latest ‘‘ new baby,” Laura Maria 
Sheldon. 

As the months went by this Green Mountain 
baby grew and thrived. She became the constant 
companion of her next older brother, Charles, until 
the arrival of baby Henry, when she divided between 
the two the wealth of love in her little warm heart. 
The strong tie of affection which united these three 
lives in childhood remained unbroken through seventy 
years of peculiar and varied experience. 

3 


4 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


When Laura was two years old the family moved to 
Windsor, and five years later to Barnet. It was from 
Laura’s grandfather, the historic Willard Stevens, that 
the early Scotch settlers bought the land which was 
afterward incorporated into this lovely, picturesque 
town. Here resided an older sister, who, faithful to 
the Stevens line, had married a second cousin, bearing 
the name of the pioneer Willard. At the request of 
this sister, Mrs. Willard Stevens, Laura, at seven 
years of age, became an inmate of her family, and 
received from her the watchful care and thorough 
training of the old-time Puritan mother. 

Soon after Laura had reached her eighth birthday, 
the bridge crossing the river which ran through the 
village was carried away by a flood. At the head of 
a waterfall eighty feet high a plank was thrown across 
the stream for the use of men who were obliged to 
go to their work on the other side. Here a party of 
Indians encamped one day upon the opposite bank, 
and our little Laura, filled with desire to know some- 
thing about these curious people, and to see how 
they lived, and to become acquainted with their 
strange ways, gave her family a terrible fright by 
crossing the plank, and investigating for herself a 
new phase of life. Thus began with this child 
an absorbing interest in the Indians, which never 
abated. 


THE CHILD. 5 


Laura’s most intimate friend at this time was 
Harriet Sprague Wright, now Mrs. Moore, of Barnet, 
Vermont, to whom we are indebted for the Indian 
incident, and who also furnishes the following : — 

‘* When I was about eight years old, and Laura ten, 
she proposed that we girls have a prayer meeting. 
She and Betsey Gill and I met in a ‘playhouse,’ 
as we called it, and Laura took charge of the meeting. 
She opened the exercises by prayer, and called on us 
to follow. Betsey, who was six years old, offered a 
prayer, but I, like a foolish child, only laughed, for 
which Laura, with flashing eyes, reproved me.” 

One other glimpse of this child, at the age of 
eleven years. She sits in the ‘‘ family room,” by 
the capacious fireplace, and spends the long winter 
evenings in the intricate task of manufacturing the 


b 


old-time ‘‘ sampler.” ‘‘ Her eyes,” says her brother 
Henry, ‘‘ were black; so was her hair. The neigh- 
bors called her ‘handsome.’ She was a good student, 
although by nature a little stubborn, causing her 
teacher some trouble at times, but not for long.” 
Let us look over the shoulder of this dark-eyed, 
industrious maiden and see what the small fingers 
have wrought. The piece of canvas about the size 
of a pocket handkerchief reveals at first sight a 
variety of colored silks finely woven into the material. 
She is now deftly stitching in small stars and crosses 


6 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


by way of final adornment. <A closer inspection 
reveals the following family record : — 


SAMPLER, 
WORKED BY LAURA M. SHELDON. AGED ELEVEN. 
Solomon Sheldon, Born Feb. 25, 1763, 


Dorothy Stevens, Born May 25, 1774. 
Solomon Sheldon & Dorothy Stevens were married Feb. 3, 1792. 


CHILDREN. 


Royal was born, Noy. 17,1792. Mary Oct. 

1, 1794. Samuel, Nov. 7,1796. Anna 

Sept. 16, 1798. Sophia and Willard 

Apr. 5, 1801. Olive, Apr. 5, 18038. Solomon 
Aug. 11, 1805. Charles, Aug. 10, 1807. Laura 
July 10, 1809. Lewis, Jan. 4, 1812. Henry, 
Sept. 9, 1813. 


The patience of the child artist must have been 
sorely taxed before the last stitch was wrought into 
this record of her family of fourteen ! 

About this time Mr. and Mrs. Willard Stevens 
moved to Newbury, taking the little sister with them. 
The clergymen of that vicinity, Rev. Clark Perry, of 


THE CHILD. fi 


Newbury, Rey. Silas McKeen, of Bradford, and Rev. 
David Sutherland, of Bath, were holding ‘‘ four-days 
meetings ” which exerted a marked influence on all 
that part of the state. For the first time Laura 
Sheldon became vitally interested in the subject of 
religion. Mr. McKeen and Mr. Perry felt a genuine 
interest in the quaint, conscientious child, and were 
counted among her most helpful friends. 

Again the restless spirit of the early settlers im- 
pelled this family to another ‘‘ move,” and this time 


it was a return to the old home at Barnet. 


1a 


THE MAIDEN. 


AURA SHELDON,” writes her early friend, 
Mrs. Moore, ‘‘ was a pure-minded girl, natu- 
rally religious and fond of books. Her life, even as a 
child, was a busy one. She had little time for amuse- 
ments common to most young girls. Her aim in life 
was to be useful, and the one thing for which she 
longed more than another was an opportunity to fit 
herself for usefulness.” 

In her seventeenth year this ambition was in a 
measure gratified. Mrs. Willard Stevens resolved to 
give her young charge some special educational advan- 
tages by sending her to the ‘*‘ Young Ladies’ School,” 
at St. Johnsbury, Vermont, taught by Miss Huldah 
Strobridge, ‘‘ a gentlewoman,” we are told, ‘‘ who suc- 
ceeded in making a lasting impression upon her pupils. 
She was a cultivated lady of marked ability.” Three 
scraps of paper, yellow with age, have been preserved, 
from which more than threescore years have failed 
to obliterate the penciled lines carefully written in a 
cramped hand. Every 7 is dotted and every ¢ prop- 
erly crossed exactly at right angles. These papers 

9 


10 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


serve to illustrate the mental condition of our young 
friend at this time. 


AT BOARDING SCHOOL, April 25, 1826. 
I am attending school this season at St. Johnsbury. My studies, 
which are History, Philosophy, and Grammar, are very interesting 
—History in particular. It is the most pleasing study I ever 
attended to, and it is not only pleasant but useful. It opens to the 
mind great sources of knowledge, and describing to us what the 
past has been, enables us to form right conjectures of the future. 
The school is very small, numbering only twelve, but not less 
pleasant on that account. JT am projecting a map. I find it to be 
very difficult, but I hope that by perseverance and industry I shall 
be able to finish it. If we could realize the privileges we enjoy we 
should certainly improve them to better advantage. But it is sel- 
dom the case that we know how to prize our privileges until we 
are deprived of them. 


April 26, 1826. 
I attended school to-day and reviewed my lessons through the 
week past in History, Philosophy, and Defining. Read in the 
Testament and attended prayers in the morning; worked on my 
map some, and made the objects. I gave a description of Babylon 
in the following words: ‘If historians deserve credit, ancient 
Babylon was the noblest city ever built. It stood on a fertile and 
beautiful plain, watered by the river Euphrates, which passed 
through the midst of the city. Its walls, which were carried to the — 
astonishing height of three hundred and sixty feet, were eighty- 
seven feet in thickness, enclosing an exact square whose sides were 
fifteen miles each. So the city was sixty miles in circuit. There 
were fifty streets, twenty-five running each way, on right lines 
parallel to each other. They were two hundred feet wide. While 
crossing each other at right angles they all terminated in a grand 
street which lay round next the wall on every side of the city. 
Thus the city was laid out in six hundred and seventy-six squares. 
These squares were lined with numerous edifices besides houses. 
The houses were generally three or four stories high, and within 
there were delightful plantations, pleasure grounds, and gardens.” 
It is Saturday in the afternoon. I intend working on my map 
and writing to sister Mary [Mrs. Willard Stevens]. 


THE MAIDEN. 1] 


ON FEMALE EDUCATION. 1826. 


What can be of more importance in the present age than female 
education? Surely nothing. During the dark ages it was shame- 
fully neglected, and is still in many parts of the world; but not 
so in America. Here, females are raised to that rank in society 
which as rational beings they ought to hold. Seminaries are estab- 
lished in all parts of our country for their improvement, in which 

. they are taught every branch of education necessary to promote 
their usefulness in the world. By some these advantages are duly 
appreciated, by others they are not. 

Since, then, the present generation of females have so many ad- 
vantages, it is certainly their duty to use their endeavors in raising 
the degraded females of Asia to the same degree of civilization and 
respectability which they hold themselves. This can be done by 
retrenching many superfluities and sending the value of them to 
thé missionaries who are now laboring to civilize the heathen. 
We have heard from good authority that they are capable of the 
intellectual as well as ourselves. A few shillings might purchase a 
little Indian girl what there would be styled a good education. 


RELIGION. 1826. 


Religion, what treasures untold 
Reside in that heavenly word 
More precious than silver or gold 
Or all that this earth can afford. 


The religion of Jesus Christ is not a system of speculative 
opinions. But it 7s a series of facts, promises, doctrines, and pre- 
cepts, the belief and practice of which is eminently fitted to purify 
the heart, ennoble the motives, and restore fallen man to primitive 
dignity and beauty, and a free exercise of opinions in relation to 
these subjects. It is one of the greatest blessings ever bestowed 
upon a free and enlightened people. It is the declaration of an 
ancient moral philosophy that ‘‘ man is a bundle of habits,” and 
daily experience or even a slight acquaintance with human nature 
will convince any one of the truth of this observation. 

Youth is the season for the promotion of habits, and since any 
vice deeply implanted at that period of life is seldom eradicated, it 
seems in a peculiar manner the time when the seeds of virtue and 
piety should be sown before the tyranny of custom gets the ascend- 
ency over our reason, or the mind becomes vitiated by indulgence. 


12 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


It is said that ‘‘ wisdom’s ways are pleasant and all her paths are 
peace.” And so they are to those who have spent the morning 
of their days and the freshness of their strength and spirits in 
overcoming the difficulties and asperities of the way, which 
serve rather to moderate than to extinguish their ambition. 

A young person who boldly comes out upon the side of religion 
and dares to be decidedly pious, not fearing the scorn and con- 
tempt of fools, must be an object worthy of the admiration and 
imitation of others. Such a character must be viewed by all good 
people with approbation and ‘delight. 


Onward, onward let us pass 
Through the path of duty; 
Virtue is true happiness, 
Excellence true beauty. 

After one year of ‘‘ schooling” Laura Sheldon re- 
turns to her sister-mother at Barnet, and begins to use 
her superior advantages for the benefit of others. She 
organizes a series of classes among the younger 
children which she calls ‘‘ infant schools.” Her 
friends in Barnet, and also in Newbury, twenty miles 
south, are deeply interested in these schools and fur- 
nish her with the means to carry them on in both 
places during the next six years of her life. She also 
teaches classes of older pupils, but her delight is in 
the children. 

- A small homemade record is still in existence which 
gives some idea of her methods. It gives the names 
of an ‘‘infant school” and a list of written questions 
and answers evidently prepared by the young teacher 
for her youngest pupils. After twenty-five questions 


and answers, beginning with ‘‘ What is history? It is 


THE MAIDEN. Ts 


a story,” and followed by minute inquiries concerning 
the size and form of the earth, its picture, the map, 
the cardinal points, and the dimensions of the earth’s 
surface, the children are gradually and thoroughly 
brought down to America, and finally to the United 
States. Then come the following questions : — 


What were the United States formerly? British provinces. 

When were they declared independent? July 4, 1776. 

How many States were united in the Declaration of Independ- 
ence? Thirteen. 

Was Vermont one of these? It was not. 

When was Vermont admitted into the Union? March 4, 1791. 


After several leading questions concerning states, 
counties, towns, latitude, longitude, boundary lines, 
etc., the children go on with another list of local 


questions : — 


In which of the United States do you live? Vermont. 

How many counties in Vermont? Thirteen. 

In which do you live? Caledonia. 

How many towns does it contain? Seventeen. 

In what town do you live? Barnet. 

What is meant by situation? The place where anything is, and 
the circumstances of it. 

How is Barnet situated? On the Connecticut River, in the 
southwest part of Caledonia County. 

How is Barnet bounded? How far is it east of Montpelier? 
Thirty-five miles. 

What is the surface of Barnet? It is a land of hills and valleys. 

What is the soil? Rich and fertile. . 

What is the growth of timber? Heavy. 

Name the principal forest trees. White pine, hemlock, beech, 
birch, spruce, ash, and maple. 

Which is the largest river in Barnet? The Passumpsic. 


14 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Where is its source? In a pond on the easterly line of West- 
more. 

Through what towns does it pass? NewaArE: East Haven, 
Burke, Lyndon, St. Johnsbury, Waterford, and Barnet. 

Where is its mouth? It falls into the Connecticut River about 
a mile below the foot of the 15 M. f. 


Here follows a list of questions about the branches, 
brooks, and falls of the Passumpsic, dwelling particu- 
larly on the Stevens River, its ferry, its falls, etc., 
and also upon all the ponds of the place, after which 
we find ourselves getting at a bit of history of thrill- 
ing interest : — 


Who conducted an expedition against St. Francois? Major 
Rogers. 

When? On October 17, 59. 

Where did he encamp on his return? In Barnet. 

What did he expect to meet here? A supply of provisions. 

From where? Charlestown, New Hampshire. 

To be ordered by whom? General Amherst. 

Was the order complied with? It was. 

Who proceeded up the river with the provisions? Samuel 
Stevens and three others. 

How did they carry them? In three canoes. 

What is an island? Are there any islands in the Connecticut, 
opposite Barnet? Several very fertile islands. 

How many islands in a cluster near the mouth of the Passumpsic? 
Twenty-one. 

Which is the largest? The Round Island, which contains about 
ninety acres. 

On which did Mr. Stevens and others land with the provisions? 
On Round Island, where they encamped for the night. 

Who was near at hand? Major Rogers and one hundred and 
fifty men. 

What did Stevens’ company hear in the morning? Guns!! 

What did they do? They reloaded their provisions and hastened 
back to Charlestown. 


—_————e 


THE MAIDEN. 15 


At what time did Rogers and his men arrive at the mouth of the 
Passumpsic? About noon. 
What did they discover on the island? Fire! 


The questions and answers then tell the story of the 
rafts which Rogers’ company made, and upon which 
they passed over to the island, but only to find out to 
their surprise and mortification that no provisions had 
been left for them. ‘The men, already reduced to a 
state of starvation, were so disheartened by this dis- 
covery that thirty-six of them died before morning. 
In order to save the survivors, an Indian was cut in 
pieces and divided among them. ‘Two days from this 
time Rogers gave up the command and told his men to 
take care of themselves. Some of them were lost in 
the woods, but Rogers and most of his men were pre- 
served and arrived safely at Charlestown. 

The question and answer, ‘‘ When was Barnet char- 
tered? September 16, 1763,” is followed by a series 
of questions concerning the principal proprietors, the 
early settlers, the first town clerk, the first representa- 
tive, first male child (who, by the way, was presented 
with one hundred acres of land by Enos Stevens, Esq.) ; 
also about the Scotch settlers, the religious sects and 
pastors of the various churches; the temperance soci- 
eties and their officers and committees; the number 
of villages and the number of houses and families in 


each; the number of horses, cows, sheep, and oxen in 


VOU: LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


town; the number of clocks, watches, schoolhouses, 
dwelling houses, mills, and stores, and at how much 
they were appraised. 

This singular list of questions closes with the fol- 
lowing, which was certainly fifty years ahead of the 
times : — 


What reasons can you give for not drinking ardent spirits? 


1. Because they poison the blood and destroy the organs of 
digestion. 

2. Because an enemy should be kept without the gate. 

3. Because I am in health and need no medicine. 

4. Because I have my senses and wish to keep them. 

5. Because I have a soul to be saved or lost. 


During the years 1830-32, our young and suc- 
.cessful teacher made her home in the family of Rev. 
Clark Perry, of Newbury. Mr. Perry was fond of 
talking of his valued friend and classmate at Dart- 
mouth College, Rev. Asher Wright, who had graduated 
at Andover with every prospect of a brilliant career 
before him, and had within three weeks of graduation 
buried himself in the wilderness of western New York 
and Pennsylvania, that he might preach the gospel to 
the Indians. The young girl, who had since her dar- 
ing adventure with the Indians been an enthusiast in 
the cause, followed with keen interest the fortunes of 
this good man as far as they could be known through 
his correspondence with Mr. Perry. There was joy in 
the little parsonage when word came that their mis- 


THE MAIDEN. 17 


sionary friend had found a companion who was willing 
to share his life and work. The bride, Miss Martha 
Edgerton, — one of the original members of the Con- 
eregational Church at Randolph, Vermont, — was a 
frail girl of rare spirituality and beauty. After one 
year of hardship and exposure among the Indians, she 
entered into rest rejoicing that she had been counted 
worthy to give up her young life for Christ. The 
widowed missionary wrote the sad story of his be- 
reavement to his friend Mr. Perry, and _ received 
from the Newbury parsonage many letters of hearty 
sympathy. 


And now we reach a point in the history of our 
maiden where a decision must be made which was to 
affect her whole future. She came home from school 
one day to find a letter awaiting her, and a most im- 
portant letter it was—nothing less than a message 
from the lonely missionary among the Seneca Indians, 
Rey. Asher Wright, whom she had never seen, but in 
whose life and works she had felt so deep an interest. 
The blushing maiden was informed without any waste 
of words that his friend, Mr. Perry, had recom- 
mended her to him as the one of all others who pos- 
sessed that Christlike spirit and amiable disposition 
which promised him in her a suitable wife and mis- 


sionary co-worker. He placed the matter before her 


18 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


in a practical way and asked permission to correspond 
with her, with this result in view. Fortunately her 


answer has been preserved : — 


NEWBURY, December 18, 18382. 

Mr. Wright, —It is undoubtedly with an equal degree of embar- 
rassment that I attempt to reply to your letter of November 27; 
but believing it to be my duty, I repress for once these feelings 
of delicacy, and, looking to Him alone for aid from whom is the 
preparation of the heart and the answer of the tongue, I shall en- 
deayor to return such an answer as our peculiar circumstances 
seem to require. : 

I was much pleased with the freedom and plainness with which 
you have chosen to write, and suppose no apology necessary, for 
adopting the same style myself. I think the circumstances of the 
ease ought to exempt us both from the imputation of rashness 
in commencing such a correspondence without any personal 
acquaintance. J am sure a Christian should at all times be willing 
to perform whatever seems to be duty, even though it be at the 
expense of private feelings. 

To proceed then at once to the subject. As regards the mission- 
ary enterprise I must say I have always taken a lively interest in 
allits concerns. I have thought of devoting myself to that object 
ever since I was a child, but as no opportunity has yet offered and 
no special providence has yet pointed plainly the path of duty, I 
have often almost concluded that God had nothing for me to do in 
heathen lands and that my sphere of usefulness was evidently 
elsewhere. I humbly hope I have long sincerely loved the cause 
of Christ, and that I have devoted my all to his service. I trust 
that I love the souls of the heathen, and am willing to leave the 
friends of my youth and encounter the toils and hardships of mis- 
sionary life, if by so doing I can be useful to them. 

In the present case there is apparently an opportunity for an 
intelligent, pious female possessing a heart devoted to the work to 
accomplish much good; but whether I am that female remains to 
be decided. I believe, however, that if I commit my cause to God 
and sincerely desire divine direction, he will order it all in infinite 
wisdom. 

As to my own happiness, I know it is nothing. I certainly 


THE MAIDEN. 19 


ought neither to expect nor wish for more than my Saviour sees 
best for me to have. Nor ought I to enjoy any but that which 
arises from loving and serving him. It should be, if it is not, 
enough for me that he reigns and will take care to secure his own 
glory in what manner he sees fit. Indeed, if we did but reflect 
that our life is but a day, and that earthly joys will soon be at an 
end, we should not allow ourselves to suffer much from anxiety 
about our happiness at a future period which we may not live to 
see. Why should we then distrust the power and goodness of our 
divine Master? But let us rather pray to be prepared for adver- 
sity and trust to him to support us through the trying hour. 

In regard to deciding the question which you propose, I can 
only say I can have no objections to commencing a correspondence 
with the proposed end in view, and should no objections arise on 
either side. . . . But still I am quite sure I can never fully supply 
the place of your amiable Martha. I have heard much of her 
ardent piety and devotion to the cause of Missions and trust I 
may be enabled to imitate her example whatever may be the result 
of the present deliberations. 

I am at present boarding in Mr. Perry’s family, teaching school. 
I think it best to avoid our correspondence being known, as much 
as possible, by all means, and in order to do so I propose that you 
direct my letters to Mr. Perry for the present. I have complied 
with your request in writing soon, because I supposed it desirable 
for you to know the result of my decision as soon as possible. If 
J have omitted anything which would be of importance for you to 
know, I beg that you will make inquiries freely, and I assure you 
they shall be answered with frankness. In the meantime, praying 
that the Master whom you serve may be your portion while you 
live and your reward in death, allow me to subscribe myself your 
friend, LAURA M. SHELDON. 


P. S. I acknowledge I have read this letter again and again. 
At one time I think I have written too much; at another, not 
enough. I think, however, it can scarcely be made better or 
worse, and one thing more I will mention. Provided the Board 
should consent to your proposal, as it would be extremely incon- 
venient for you to visit New England this winter, or for me to go 
to New York, on account of my having engaged a school three 
months, I will take the liberty to suggest whether it would not be 
expedient to defer it a few months at least. I could certainly 


20 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


acquire a very good knowledge of the language from you, in a 
short time, if you are a communicative teacher. I should not have 
made the above suggestion, were it not that I probably shall not 
have many opportunities of writing freely, and supposed it of 
consequence that we fully understand each other’s circumstances. 


After one year of correspondence, Mr. Wright was 
able to leave his Indian charge for a few weeks, and 
undertake the long and difficult journey from Buffalo, 
New York, to Barnet, Vermont. Through his friend 
Mr. Perry, he was presented without delay to Miss 
Laura Sheldon. We have no account of this interview, 
but the result was evidently satisfactory, for they went 
home to sister Mary, in Barnet, anfl on January 21, 
1833, they were united in marriage by their mutual 
friend, Mr. Perry, who undoubtedly beamed upon them 
with the satisfaction of a successful matchmaker. 
After the ceremony the happy couple were put in 
possession of the following 


CERTIFICATE OF MARRIAGE. 


THIS IS TO CERTIFY that at Barnet, Caledonia County, Vermont, 
on Monday, the 21, day, of Jan., in the year of our Lord, 1833, 
Rey. Asher Wright, of the Seneca Reservation, near Buffalo, Erie 
Co., New York, and Miss Laura Maria Sheldon, of Barnet afore- 
said were duly joined in marriage by me — 

CLARK PERRY, 
Minister of the Gospel, Newbury, Vermont, 21 Jan., 1833. 


If. 


THE BRIDE. 


N the following morning, January 22, 1833, tearful 
farewells were spoken to the friends in Barnet 
and to those who had come from St. Johnsbury and 
Newbury, and the bride went out from her home with 
him for whom she was forsaking father, mother, 
brothers, sisters, and friends, that through him she 
might obey the higher call to special service for her 
heavenly Master. 
_ And now they were fairly started on a long mid- 
winter journey to Buffalo, New York. Fifteen days 
and nights of travel without rest, in the old-time stage- 
coach, with so delightful a teacher at hand, was a 
golden opportunity, and, ignoring cold and fatigue, 
the young wife commenced to study the Indian lan- 
guage, making rapid progress in the use of both words 
and sentences. 

On the evening of February 5, the bridal pair 
arrived at the door of the old Mission House. It was 
not an attractive building even in the more pictur- 
esque days of summer, but in the dead of winter every 
deformity was plainly defined. The lower part was 


21 


22 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


of rough-hewn logs, upon which a ‘‘ frame addition” 
of two stories had been placed. Mr. Wright had 
formerly occupied a cabin which he built on the bank 
of Buffalo Creek, near what is now known as ‘‘ the 
old burying ground,” in Buffalo; but he and his wife 
were henceforth to form a part of the missionary 
family already established in this curious old build- 
ing, 
and a few Indian students. 


consisting of Rev. Hanover Bradley and wife 


The morning after their arrival many of the Indians 
gathered to welcome the missionary bride, and were 
astonished and delighted to be addressed in their own 
tongue in the words and phrases learned during her 


? 


journey. ‘‘This gift of tongues,” says one, ‘‘ com- 
bined with the rare loveliness of the bride, won at 
once the warm affection of the Indians. Tall and 
straight as the traditional red lord of the soil, she was 
gentle and sympathetic to a remarkable degree, and 
was for many years the life of the settlement.” 

The young wife inwardly protested against the 
stringent rules of the mission during those first months, 
but whatever her thought, she was never heard to 
complain,: but adapted herself to every privation, then 
and always, with cheerful Christian submission. The 
furniture of the house was severe in the extreme. 


9 


Hard wooden chairs, with not even a ‘‘ rocker” to 


vary the monotony, and beds to match. According 


THE BRIDE. aa 


to the family rules, tea, coffee, pies, cake, sugar, and 
asparagus were not allowed in the house. The table 
was furnished with food of the plainest quality, bread, 
pork, and potatoes being the prevailing diet. They 
were allowed the luxury of custards without sugar ! 
Those who craved a warm drink were permitted to 
make a tea from hemlock boughs ! 

Soon after the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Wright the 
old building began to show signs of falling to the 
ground. A plain frame house was erected, into which 
the Mission family moved, and in a few weeks the old 
log house lay in ruins. The frame Mission House still 
stands in the city of Buffalo. 


* 


THERE still live many of the descendants of the powerful Iro- 
quois —the Six Nations—the great Indian Confederacy which 
once controlled a large part of the eastern section of this immense 
country of ours. Their hunting grounds have turned into well- 
cultivated farms; their wigwams into comfortable houses; their 
spears and arrows into the smoking bow! of peace; but many of 
the people themselves who remain have lost none of the bravery, 
tirmness, and intelligence which were characteristic of the early 
inhabitants of America. — The Christian Union. 


IV. 


THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 


Me WRIGHT began her work at once. She 

soon gathered a class of Indian girls for daily 
instruction and training in useful arts. She traveled 
over the rough roads and through the swamps and 
streams on horseback, with saddlebags securely fas- 
tened to her side. In these she carried food, medi- 
cine, etc. She not only visited the Indian homes; 
she looked after the distant, lonely teachers — Miss 
Asenath Bishop, Miss Rebecca Newhall, and Miss 
Phebe Selden, who were teaching, and keeping house 
in small log schoolhouses, miles away from the mis- 
sion station. 

Miss Bishop, who went to the Senecas in 1823, and 
labored with untiring zeal during eighteen years, was 
noted in the tribe for her wonderful patience under 
manifold persecutions. To illustrate: the larger boys 
of her school one day devised a scheme by which they 
hoped to gain a victory over this unendurable calm. 
Arriving at her little schoolhouse one bitter cold 
morning, she prepared with benumbed fingers to build 
a fire. Upon opening the door, she found the stove 

27 


28 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


packed with snow. She stood a moment in bewildered 
surprise, and then, realizing the situation, calmly took 
the stove shovel and the water pail and without a word 
or change of expression began to shovel out the snow. 
Before she had half filled the pail she heard a rustle, 
then a scrambling from behind the benches, and half 
a dozen Indian boys leaped into the air, shouting, 
‘¢ Miss Bishop! He can’t mad! Miss Bishop! He 
can’t mad!” 

The shovel and pail were taken from her, the stove 
cleaned out, and a good fire made by those young 
rogues, who said years afterward, ‘‘ We boys gloried 
in her spunk !” 

The following characterization illustrates ‘* Indian 
English.” Miss Bishop missed Mr. Little Johnny 
John from church, and asked Deacon Fish Hook what 
had become of him :— 

‘¢ Miss Bishop,” said the deacon, using with pride 
the English at his command, ‘ Little Johnny John he 
not good! Much afraid just like this: devil— you 
know him — he got chain round Little Johnny John’s 
neck. Well, sometimes devil hold chain loose; then 
Little Johnny John think: ‘I go see; maybe Christian 
good; maybe I like it; I go to meeting.’ Well, devil 
say: ‘I watch; I let him go little while; I see!’ 
Little Johnny John he come to meeting. He think, 
‘Pretty good’; so he come to meeting again. He 


THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 29 


like it good deal. He say, ‘1 will be Christian.’ 
Devil let chain out little more, little more. Little 
Johnny John pretty good Christian. By-and-by devil 
think: ‘I don’t know; maybe guess he go too far; 
maybe lose him!’ So. devil he pull it— chain! 
Pull it— chain! and Little Johnny John he go back 
—he go back. Now Little Johnny John—guess he 
no good. JDevil hold chain pretty tight now; guess 
Little Johnny John he can’t repent now; guess devil 
— he can’t willing.” 

Deacon Fish Hook was a true prophet. Little 
Johnny John returned to paganism. 

In her visits from house to house, Mrs. Wright con- 
stantly used the Indian phrases she had acquired, and 
daily added others, until in an incredibly short time 
she spoke the language fluently, and was able to ren- 
der valuable assistance to her husband, who was also 
a natural linguist. During his life he acquired seven 
different languages. He not only mastered the very 
difficult Seneca tongue, so that he could preach in it, 
but set to work to establish a system of orthography 
by the aid of which the Indian tongue could be reduced 
to written characters. In this he was successful, and 
with the help of his young wife put his system to 
practical use by translating into it a hymn book, the 
Four Gospels, and portions of the Old Testament. 
They likewise procured the type, and printed these 


30 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


books themselves. ‘They compiled a spelling book for 
the school children, and partly completed a dictionary 
in the Seneca tongue. Mr. Wright imparted his 
knowledge of medicine to his wife, and they were both 
widely sought by the sick and suffering, not only 
among the Indians, but among the surrounding whites 
as well. They gave medical service, without com- 
pensation, to all who applied. 

Within a few months after the arrival of these mis- 
sionaries, the cholera broke out and wrought sad havoc 
among the Senecas ; but through all the dreadful weeks 
that followed, Mr. and Mrs. Wright were constantly at 
the bedside of the sick and dying, ministering to their 
physical and spiritual wants without thought or fear 
for themselves. 

The first church edifice among the Senecas was 
a plain frame building painted white. Two services 
were held there every Sabbath, and it was always cus- 
tomary for a large part of the audience to visit the 
Mission House at noon, and there be made happy with 
the ‘‘ white man’s bread.” This hospitality helped the 
Indian to travel many miles, and to reach the church 
before noon at least. White people sometimes passed 
through the Reservation, and while receiving the hos- 
pitality of the Mission House became acquainted with 
the interesting young missionary, and soon it came to 


pass that every one, whether Indian or pale face, loved 


THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. a 


her and came to her for advice and consolation. In 
after years her influence became all-important in coun- 
teracting the evil effects of treachery and cupidity dis-- 
played too often by the whites toward the Indians. 
It has been said that to her personal influence, teach- 
ing, and example was largely due the fact that so 
many of these Indians embraced Christianity. 

After fourteen months of uninterrupted companion- 
ship with her husband, and successful work by his side 
and under his direction, the young missionary is left 
alone a few days and avails herself of this opportunity 
to write her first letter as a wife. 


My Room, April 9, 1884. 
Dear Husband, — As muchas I dreaded to have you leave me, I 
have almost wished sometimes that I could have an opportunity to 
write one letter to you, and after you went away to-day I thought 
I would sit down and write to you. You will see that I have been 
arranging your desk. I hope you will be pleased with it. There 
were so many things which have no kind of relation to each other 
that I could hardly find places for them all. I fear you may dis- 
cover some confusion among your papers. I look the liberty of 
reading a few of Martha’s letters. I have prayed much that I 
might be like her as far as she was like Christ. I feel sensible that 
I am not much like her. Last night I thought I felt some as Abra- 
ham did when a horror of great darkness fell upon him. I could 
see no light, and it seemed as though my prayers were an empty 
noise. I hope I feel more comfort to-day, though I scarcely re- 
strain the tears a moment. I hope you pray for me, my husband, 
thought I do not wish to trust at all in your prayers. I think I 
desire to trust in God alone. 
Perhaps you will think me childish to write a letter to you when 
I expect to see you so soon; but I thought it would be so pleasant 
to write ‘“‘dear husband” and then to subscribe myself ‘‘ Your 
affectionate wife.” 


a2 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Twenty months of united missionary work and Mr. 
Wright was called to the other Seneca Reservations to 
assist the resident missionaries in a ‘* protracted meet- 


3) 


ing.” And so one cold morning in December, accom- 
panied by his guide and interpreter, Indian Robert, 
he started on that difficult and dangerous journey of 
thirty miles through the almost unbroken woods to 
the Cattaraugus Reservation, and from there forty 
miles farther on to the Allegheny Reservation. Mrs. 
Wright, with a heart burdened with anxious fore- 
bodings, bade him good-by and promised to keep a 
daily record of her life and work to be sent to him by 
the first trusty messenger traveling in the same direc- 
tion. A few sheets of this record, giving us a glimpse 
of her life at that time, have been preserved. 


SENECA MISSION, December, 1835. 

My dear Husband, — According to my promise [ must com- 
mence a letter this evening, although much fatigued, having just 
returned from a visit to Mary King, whom I found in a most dis- 
tressing situation. She said she had not clothes enough to keep 
her warm, and at times was very hungry indeed. Her bed con- 
sisted of one blanket, spread on a couple of boards. She did not 
think she could live long, for she found it extremely difficult to get 
into the house to-day when she went out. Peter went with us 
as interpreter. Everything to-day has gone well, only I am lone- 
some to-night, and can’t help thinking of the Cattaraugus woods 
and hoping that you are not in them. 

Sunday evening. Assisted to-day in moving Mary King. After 
I left her last night she coughed up a great deal of thick, bloody 
matter, which indicates an ulcer, does it not? She is very com- 
fortably situated now at Mrs. Seneca’s; and I hope to visit her 


THE YOUNG MISSIONARY. 33 


often and minister to the wants of both soul and body. As for 
myself, I hardly know what to tell you. I still find in myself the 
same proneness to forget the solemn things of eternity, although 
I am surrounded with so much to remind me of them. 

Monday evening. J have tried to do my washing to-day, and 
have succeeded pretty well. I learn that there is trouble again 
between Greenblanket and his wife. How sad to have such a re- 
proach thrown upon the cause of Christ! When will Christians 
learn to live in peace? What a question! As if Christians could 
live in a quarrel! Alas, that we should possess so little of the 
spirit of our Master! 

Tuesday evening. Deacon Blue Eyes came this evening, and 
is to spend the night with us. Weexpect to kill hogs to-morrow. 
Thermometer eight degrees below zero to-day. I took cold yes- 
terday, and have a dreadful face, I assure you. Can scarcely see 
out of my left eye. My jaw is somewhat painful and I have been 
obliged to keep still all day. Your letter was truly welcome, and 
the more so as it was entirely unexpected. You were in the woods 
at the very time I feared. I should not have slept that night had 
I known that. You must not do so again! No,no! You must 
be willing to stop where darkness overtakes you, and not risk 
your life and health by traveling in the night. I am glad you 
have bought a cow, and I shall do my best to make a great deal 
of butter, but ycu must not form too high expectations. 

Monday evening. Well, my dear husband, you see I have 
skipped a few days. My face was so painful Friday and Satur- 
day that I dared not write lest I should communicate some of my 
pain. Sunday forenoon a large swelling between my cheek and 
jaw broke, and I felt almost immediate relief and have continued 
to mend since. 

Daniel Two Guns’ youngest child is quite sick and they fear it 
will die. 

I send you your compass, that you may have a guide through 
the woods. But oh, keep near to the great Guide of feeble, wan- 
dering stnners! There is safety only there, and peace only there. 
Tell Indian Robert he will need a true compass to guide him 
through the wilderness of this world, where are a thousand snares 
into which he may fall at any moment. 

I should like to join you at the missionary meeting if I could 
consistently do so, but I do not wish to leave one duty undone for 
the sake of going. 


34 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


This letter having been sent by a trusty messenger, 
the faithful correspondent continues her record : — 


SENECA MISSION, December 30, 1835. 

My dearest Husband, — This evening I received your precious 
letter and could scarcely keep from crying when I found you had 
not heard from me. You must have met my messenger before 
this time, however, and received at his hand the letter and other 
things which I sent to you. 

Peter’s wife sent for me yesterday. I found her in great dis- 
tress; respiration exceedingly difficult. She turned upon me in a 
most beseeching manner aud begged me to relieve her. I told her 
no mortal power could relieve her much, but her bodily pains 
would soon be over. I questioned her about her soul. She has 
remembered all this time what you said to her when you went 
away. I thought she seemed almost to despair of God’s willing- 
ness to save her. I tried to convince her that though she had been 
a great sinner, Jesus was an all-sufficient Saviour. I think her 
mind was very dark. I urged her to repent of her sin and cast 
herself upon the mercy of her Saviour. She was too much dis- 
tressed to think about these things, and died, a warning to all of 
the danger of ‘‘ breaking covenant with God,” as she herself said. 

I am now writing in our own little room again. It is the pleas- 
antest place in the house for me, although it seems so lonely since 
my other half has deserted it. But you know there is a secret joy 
sometimes in indulging loneliness when it reminds us so strongly 
of the cause of our past happiness and present sadness. 

I hope, my dear, that you are making rapid progress in the 
Indian tongue. Do not faint or be discouraged. Go forward, 
keep looking at the crowd of precious souls going down to death, 
and at the example and command of our divine Master, and if I 
may say so, ‘‘ have respect to the recompense of reward.” 'These 
considerations are enough to incite us to zeal and faithfulness. 


V. 
THE FOSTER MOTHER. 


FTER Mr. and Mrs. Wright assumed the charge - 

of the Mission House in 1834, many white 
people and Indians were sheltered under this hospi- 
table roof. Having no children, their hearts and home 
were open to the wants of many a homeless little one 
in need of care. Concerning some of these children 
we have no record, and but slight knowledge of 
others; but that future allusions to them may be 
understood, its seems best, before proceeding further, 
to furnish at once whatever information has been 


obtained concerning this group of adopted ones. 


Catherine King, an interesting girl of fifteen years, 
was taken into the mission family soon after Mrs. 
Wright’s arrival, and became her special charge. 
She gave the young girl much needed instruction, and 
won her to the Christian religion. Catherine repaid 
her faithful care by teaching her the Indian tongue 
and becoming her interpreter. 


Two years later Mrs. Wright adopted her own 
85 


36 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


favorite niece, a girl of fifteen years, Martha Hoyt, 
who for many years rendered efficient service in the 
mission household. Miss Hoyt married Nicholson H. 
Parker, an educated Indian, who held the office of 
United States Interpreter for his people. Mr. Parker 
was a member of the mission family, and rendered 
invaluable assistance in translating the Scriptures into 
the Indian tongue. The children of this marriage 
were born at the Mission House, and were objects 
of tender solicitude and loving care through the life 
of this devoted foster mother. 


One day, an Indian mother, whose soul had been 
stirred to desire better things for her child than she 
had known, brought her babe of six months to the 
Mission House, and laying it in the arms of the 
young wife said, ‘‘ I give you my boy; take him and 
bring him up in your faith.” The sacred trust was ac- 
cepted. The Indian baby was baptized Asher Wright 
Two Guns. He lived to be nearly three years old. 
His brain was unnaturally active, and he seemed to 
understand that Jesus was the friend to whom the 
loyal love of his little heart should be given, and so 
we find upon record these words: ‘*‘ We think this 
child gave good evidence of being a Christian.” 


But the sad heart of the foster mother was not 


ee ee ee 


THE FOSTER MOTHER. 37 


long left uncomforted. One day in February, 1836, 
she was called to the bedside of an Indian mother, 
who died in the triumphs of the Christian faith. 
With her latest breath she commended her children 
to the care of her covenant-keeping God, praying 
that she might meet them all in a better world. The 
motherless babe was taken to the Mission House to 
receive the same tender care which had sheltered the 
little Asher. This- child. Louisa Maria Jones, was 
the daughter of the Seneca chief, William Jones. 
Inheriting, as they feared, the consumptive tendencies 
of her mother, it was with the greatest difficulty that 
she was carried through the period of early childhood. 
It pleased God, however, to raise her up, and at the 
age of five years her health was so confirmed that 
hopes began to be entertained that she might see 
many years and be prepared for usefulness among 


her people. 


When little Louisa was about six years old, the 
occupants of the Mission House were awakened from 
their midnight slumbers by the piteous cry of an 
infant. It was November, and the plaintive moan 
of the little one mingled with the howling winds 
without. They thought that some deserted mother 
had come to them for relief, and hastened to open 


the door. Looking out into the darkness they saw 


38 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


nothing, but continued to hear the cry, although it 
grew fainter, as though the strength of the little one 
were failing. Further investigation revealed a small 
bandbox upon the doorstep! Through an opening in 
the top of this box they saw a little hand move, and 
when the cover was removed the blue eyes opened to 
the light; but the pale-face baby seemed stupefied by 
the effects of some drug, and scarcely showed signs 
of life for twenty-four hours. Then it awoke and 
looked into the faces of its new friends with a bright 
smile which won their hearts. Upon a paper found 
among the folds of the blanket were written these 
words: ‘‘ Farewell, my little baby! Thy mother must 
desert thee, but may God take care of thee, and find 
thee friends.” The words were blotted by tears. 
Under the tender care of its foster parents the 
little foundling, who was called at his baptism Henry 
Morrison, became a healthy, vigorous child, and re- 
mained so until a few weeks before his death, which 
occurred in nine months after his strange entrance 
to the Mission Home. As no clew had been afforded 
to his real parentage, the following paragraph, written 
by Mrs. Wright, was published, that those to whom 
he belonged might know the fate of the little outcast: 


Beneath the shade of a spreading black walnut, in the gateway 
of an ancient fort, now occupied as the burying ground at the 
Seneca Mission Station, is a little inclosure which contains the 


ee 


THE FOSTER MOTHER. 39 


dead of the mission family. In that inclosure was deposited on 
the 22d instant the remains of a little stranger probably about 
nine months old, whose origin is veiled in mystery. 

On the morning of the fourth of last November he was found in 
a bandbox on the doorstep of the Mission House, appearing to be 
about four or:five days old. Some time in the night the inmates 
of an Indian house near by observed a wagon coming from the 
direction of Buffalo with several persons in it. They stopped 
opposite the path which leads to the Mission House. At this 
time a child, apparently very young, was heard distinctly to cry 
for several minutes; then all was still for several minutes longer, 
when the wagon moved slowly away, as if proceeding on its 
journey away from the city. When found, the little boy was 
sadly chilled, besides manifesting indications of having been 
drugged, and for several days his life hung in doubt. Subse- 
quently, however, he became very healthy and vigorous, mani- 
festing a sprightliness and a loveliness of disposition which en- 
deared him to all who saw him, and especially to the family whose 
sympathies for the outcast had led them to adopt him. He died 
on the morning of the 21st, of cholera infantum, brought on by 
teething. 


In digging a grave for this child a quantity of 
bones were disinterred at the depth of about two 
feet, which seemed to have belonged to a full-sized 
man, probably deposited there when the fort was 
occupied by soldiers— perhaps in the French war, 
or perhaps previously. As even conjecture itself is 
silent among the Indians as to the origin of the 
fortification, the bones were reinterred in the bottom 
of the grave; so that this little babe, one of the 
mildest and sweetest of that tender age, now awaits 
the resurrection morning, in the bosom, as it were, of 
a fierce old Indian warrior, or perhaps some gruff 
French or Highland soldier. 


4() LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


The gateway of that fort is now the gateway of the 
City of the Dead; and at its very entrance lie Red 
Jacket, Mary Jemison, the ‘*‘ White Woman,” and her 
oranddaughter, the little children in the inclosure, 
and underneath, in forgotten silence, the relics of 
fierce and sanguinary battles. Could the infinitely 
higher excitements of the scene portray it, with what 
astonishment would that incongruous group, ‘‘ un- 
knowing and unknown,” survey each other when 
starting from their final slumber ! 


But the Mission House was not wholly desolate, 
for little Louisa was still spared to share the love 
and care of these warm hearts. It was their constant 
prayer that she might be converted to God in early 
childhood, but, although apparently much interested 
in all that was said, no special change was observed 
in her until she was seven years old, when, on her 
return from a communion service at the little mission 
church, she seemed much affected and asked her 
foster parents to pray for her. She said she wanted 
to be a Christian, and hoped that she might be pre- 
pared to unite in the next Communion and thus obey 
the command of Jesus. When alone with her mother 
she wept and said, ‘* Do tell papa that I want to be 
a Christian, and I want to go forward at the next 
Communion if he thinks it would be proper.” From 


THE FOSTER MOTHER. 4] 


this time a marked change was noticeable in her char- 
acter. She was in the habit of secret prayer, and in 
the little Mission praying circle she would often take 
part with much earnestness. Her favorite book was 
the ‘‘ Peep of Day.” She read it through again and 
again, and never seemed weary of it. Her natural 
disposition was peevish and irritable; but she now 
acquired a degree of self-control which she had never 
before exhibited. 

But the inherited seeds of disease had been doing 
their work. She was taken very ill with inflammation 
of the lungs, attended with severe attacks of suffoca- 
tion. In these paroxysms she sometimes manifested 
ereat impatience, but would say afterward, ‘‘I don’t 
want to do so, mamma, but I am so distressed I can’t 
help it.” 

It seemed best at last to tell this Indian child that 
she might not get well. She was very quiet a few mo- 
ments, and then said, ‘‘ Mamma, please shut the door. 
I want to pray with you alone.” ‘These were her 
words: ‘*O Lord, wilt thou bless me and give me 
a new heart before I die!” The next day she said, 
‘*Mamma, I am willing to die if God sees best; 
though I should like to live and do good among my 
people.” 

She talked much about heaven, and said one day, 
‘*¢] wish very often that God would send little Henry 


42 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


to take me up to heaven; I want to see how it looks 
before I die. I want to see Jesus, too, and know how 
he looks.” They sang to her, ‘‘ Ye angels who stand 
round the throne.” ‘* That is a very sweet hymn, 
mamma,” said she. One day she threw her arms 
about her foster mother’s neck, and_ exclaimed, 
‘¢When you used to talk with me about Jesus, and 
when I saw you cry so, you don’t know how badly 
I felt. It seemed sometimes as though I should die!” 

‘ST feel now, Louisa,” said her mother, ‘‘ that I 
can give you up into the Saviour’s hands. I hope 
you feel that you can give yourself up?” 

‘¢Yes; I do,” was the reply. 

‘Do you feel sure that Jesus will be your friend if 
you should die, Louisa?” 

‘¢ Yes; I think so,” said she. 

‘¢ Why do you think so?” asked her friend, longing 
to reach the inmost thought of this dear child. 

‘¢ Because I know he loves little children who love 
him, and I know I love him,” said she, in simple faith. 

‘¢ And, mamma,” she continued after a short silence, 
‘¢T am not afraid to die, because I do trust Jesus.” 

The day before her death she appeared very happy, 
and often requested her adopted mother to sing to 
her. She read, herself, the Twenty-third Psalm and 
said, ‘‘ That is a sweet psalm.” 


A few hours before her death she said many times, 


THE FOSTER MOTHER. 43 


‘“‘T am happy!” Calling her mother to her she 
whispered, ‘‘ Mamma, I feel as though I could praise 
and bless God; perhaps even now he will let me 
live to do good to my people.”’ Her mother replied, 
‘¢ Perhaps, Louisa, he will see it best to take you 
away to-day qi do you feel as if you could praise and 
bless him still?” 

‘s Yes, mamma,” she answered, with a sweet smile 
upon her countenance. A little later she exclaimed, 
‘¢T feel happy; it seems as though angels were all 
around this room, and Jesus is in the midst. I do 
not know whether I am a Christian or not, but I think 
I do love the Lord Jesus Christ. Iam not afraid to 
die, because he is my friend. He loves little children.” 

She frequently expressed a sense of her sinfulness, 
and her hope of forgiveness through Jesus alone. A 
few moments before she breathed her last she said in 
a faint whisper, ‘‘ Mamma, bury me in the garden, 
won’t you?” ; 

‘¢ Would you not choose, Louisa, to be buried beside 
little Henry?” her mother asked. 

*¢ Yes, if you wish it,” she replied; ‘‘or beside my 
own mother.” 

Looking around upon the circle gathered about her 
she said, ‘‘ I love everybody.” With perfect calmness 
she gave each a parting kiss, and sent messages of 


affection to her father and brother, evidently aware 


44 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


that she was on the threshold of eternity. Her spirit 
went to the Saviour in whom she so sweetly trusted, 
and her body was placed beside that of her departed 
mother. 

In 1848 Mrs. Wright adopted another niece, Phinie 
Sheldon. ‘This child, taken at the age of five years, 
was reared in the Mission family, and finally entered 
the foreign field under the American Board of Com- 
missioners for Foreign Missions, as the wife of Rev. 
Willis C. Dewey, Mardin, Turkey in Asia. 


VI. 


A VISIT TO VERMONT. 
1838. 


FTER nearly six years of hard work, painful 
exposure, and privations unspeakable, it was 
decided that Mrs. Wright should be permitted to visit 
her friends in Barnet, Vermont. It was the only time 
during the fifty-three years of her missionary life that 
she ever availed herself of this privilege. 

She took passage upon a canal boat, accompanied 
by her beloved little Indian Louisa, and Austria Two 
Guns, another Indian child, who was to be received 
into the family of Mrs. Henry Keyes, of Newbury, 
Vermont. 

(It may be well, in passing, to say that Austria 
Two Guns was brought up in this Christian family as 
their own, and received the usual advantages given to 
young girls at that time. In later years she returned 
to her people, married one of her own race, William 
Tallchief, and established a Christian home upon the 
Cattaraugus Reservation. ) 

A penciled account of this journey is one of the 
few records left of that far-away past :— 


45 


46 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


BoaT ANN, June 6, 1838. 

Started from the Seneca Mission to-day with much anxiety 
and many tears, to visit my friends in Vermont. Mr. Wright 
accompanied me to the boat and left me. It is the first time I 
have left home and husband. Have felt a great degree of anxiety 
since I decided to come, but have at length concluded to give up 
all sources of solicitude into the hands of my Father in heaven, 
believing that he knows what is best for me, and will do all that 
is right. I do not know but I have mistaken the path of duty 
in regard to the journey, though I think I have sought direction 
from above. I have prayed that if I ought not to go, my way 
may be hedged up. 

June 7. Had a wearisome night. Little Louisa cried a good 
dea]. She is much better to-day, and I hope will not be sick. 

We were stranded this forenoon on a rock, which hindered us 
about three hours. I have enjoyed myself much better so far than 
IT expected. I cannot but hope that a kind Providence smiles upon 
me, although I am an ungrateful sinner. It is astonishing that 
such a sinner should be favored with such mercy. 

June 8. To-day we passed Palmyra. Got on very well. Much 
pleasanter than yesterday. Rested better last night. The captain 
tells us that we shall pass the Sabbath at Syracuse. Little Louisa 
is much happier to-day. 

June 9. Thought much of my dear husband last night. Am 
afraid he feels lonely. I still feel some misgivings about the 
course I have pursued in taking this journey. I pray God may 
forgive me if I have done wrong. 

The Sabbath; but I should not know it by its sacred stillness. 
We are at Syracuse, close by the wharf. Men and boys are idling 
and laughing, and singing obscene songs all about us. I never 
spent such a Sabbath before. and hope never to again. Attended 
the Presbyterian church a part of the day. 

Monday. Spent the day pleasantly. Made preparations to leave 
the boat at twelve at night to take the cars at Utica. 

Tuesday. Left the boat at midnight; went into a tavern, took 
a bed, but the vermin were so numerous that it was impossible 
to sleep. We rose at daylight and went downstairs, where we 
found a number of people sleeping on the floor. After taking 
some refreshment we hurried to the cars. Came from Utica to 
Albany in a trice —only six hours. I like the speed on many 
accounts, but cannot say that I like the motion of the cars. The 


A VISIT TO VERMONT. 47 


weather was warm and sultry and we were tired. Took the steam- 
boat at four o’clock and went to Troy and spent the night at a 
public house. 

Wednesday. To-day we took a boat to Whitehall, arriving 
Thursday evening. The passage was as unpleasant as anything 
could be, almost. Spent the night at the Clinton House. Slept 
well. Hope I felt some gratitude for preserving mercy so far. 

June 20. At Whitehall we had to wait till Friday at one o’clock 
before we could get a boat for Burlington; at which place we 
arrived just after dark, and then waited again till Saturday noon 
for a stage to take us to Montpelier, where we arrived late in the 
evening and spent the Sabbath. Attended church all day and met 
a good missionary sister from Dwight, Arkansas— Miss Emeline 
Bradshaw. We wept together, and oh, how precious was the 
short interview! We stopped at the Temperance House and had 
good fare, and very cheap. 

The people found out that we were from the Indians (the chil- 
dren betrayed us) and treated us on that account with great kind- 
ness and attention. Both Congregational ministers called upon 
us in the evening, and also the editor of The Watchman, and 
several others. 

We left Montpelier Monday morning before light and reached 
home about three o’clock in the afternoon. Both the children have 
enjoyed good health all the way, and have received much kind 
treatment. 


BARNET, June 21, 1838. 
My dear Husband,— We arrived here Monday afternoon, safe 
and in‘tolerable health, though much fatigued. Through the 
abounding mercy of our heavenly Father we have been preserved 
from every danger by night and by day. Found all my friends well 
except father, who is extremely feeble. His hair is white as snow. 
His face is pale and his gait weak and tottering. We fear he will 
not stay with us long. I have not yet ascertained his state of 
mind, but fear that he clings to the delusive hope that God is 
too just to condemn any one to eternal punishment. Mother also 
has failed, although she is still quite active. They were both much 
overcome at seeing me. Mother says, ‘‘I have found the word of 
promise sure, that they that wait on the Lord shall not want 
any good thing.” She seems to be in a very calm, happy state 
of mind, perfectly resigned to God’s will for her. 


48 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


The old friends and neighbors flocked around me and seemed 
glad to see me. I think as many as twenty persons called last 
evening. The village is very much altered during my absence, 
ind the people more, but the rocks and hills remain unchanged. 

I expect to start for Newbury next Tuesday and take Austria 
Two Guns with me to her future home. She is a good girl and 
very happy. The little girls here almost quarrel about which 
shall have the first visit from her. 

Little Louisa is in fine spirits. She has mother’s little white 
kitten, with which she is perfectly delighted. Mother thinks she 
must have everything she wants. 

Everybody here says I have grown old, and changed very much. 
When I tell them that I have always been contented they do not 
believe me. I feel very anxious to hear from you, but I try to 
trust you and all in the hands of God, and I think I do feel some 
sweet confidence that you are safe in his keeping. I think of you 
every night, when I lie down to sleep, and when I awake in the 
night, and when I awake in the morning. I pray God to make 
your life precious in his sight. I do not forget while I am 
reveling in the affection of my friends that my dear one is lonely. 
Do not fail to pray that I may not always be such an ungrateful 
creature as I have been in time past. Your absent and affectionate 
wife, L. M. W. 


During the absence of this ‘‘ light of the Mission 
Home,” the lonely husband one day chanced to take 
up her album, well filled with the old-time testimonials 
of early friends in Barnet, Newbury, and St. Johns- 


bury, of which a sample or two will suffice : — 


Laura, I know thee by thine eye, 

And by thy manner meek and mild, 
And by thy words of charity, 

That God has made thee his own child. 


ANN M. GOULD. 


How honorable, safe and happy are 
the servants of God! Caws 


A VISIT TO VERMONT. 49 


The entire hymn ‘‘ There is a fountain filled with 
blood” had been written upon one of these pages, and 
signed by a converted Indian; the only time in its 
existence, probably, that this choice bit of pure old 
gospel ever found itself amid similar environments. 

The observant eyes of the printer and publisher of 
Indian literature very soon noted a peculiarity in the 
curious little book, which he quietly exposed in rhyme 
upon the fly leaf : — 


Laura, thy friends, the writers in this book, 
Have turned it wrong end upwards; was it haste? 
Did they upon the back forget to look 
In want of title page? or deem it taste, 
Or mode refined, to change it, end for end, 
A new-vamped, high-lived courtesy ’twixt friend and friend? 


Or was it eye prophetic; a keen glance 
Far thro’ the unveiled future that foretold 
Thy destiny reversed? the which perchance 
Fearing to wound thee, thus, by figures bold, 
Instead of open speech, they here made known? 
Or was it the sheer vagary of some old crone? 


I thank them, Laura, whatsoe’er the intent; 
(Nor less because they furnish me a theme;) 

The world is wrong end upwards; strangely blent — 
Weal, woe; truth, fiction; ill would it beseem 

If in friends’ Memory-books no type were found 
Of the queer topsy-turvy seen the world around. 


“To err is human” ; this, tho’ no excuse, 

Should waken charity toward those who fail; 
Ourselves should draw from it a better use; 

Stern watchfulness ’gainst rude or sly assail 
Of error or temptation — firm in hope 

That our deeds all at last may be found right end up. 


GAI WI YU (Good news, Gospel). 


a 


a nret 
eres? i 4a hl 


pipes, 


MARY JEMISON, THE CAPTIVE. 


VIL. 


WHITE CAPTIVES. 


lle was a happy moment for our young missionary 

when she stood at the Mission door, one day, to 
welcome her loved brother from the far-away hills of 
Vermont. Years of separation had only served to 
strengthen the strong tie of fraternal affection. This 
brother, Mr. Henry Sheldon, now residing at Canton, 
Pennsylvania, gives his recollection of that visit as 
follows :— 


The next day after I got there, Laura took me to see some of 
her people who were sick. Among others we visited Old White 
Chief, father of Seneca White and John Seneca. He was ap- 
parently near death. After presenting a few delicacies which she 
had brought, she read to him from the Gospel of Luke and sang 
some Indian hymns. I knew almost nothing of the Indians, and 
they all looked alike to me; but here was a novelty. The old 
White Chief had an Indian face and hands, but his arms and chest 
were «us white and soft as those of a baby. His wife was dead, but - 
he was cared for by a daughter. He seemed comforted by the 
reading and singing. 

I remained on the Reservation nearly two years, and I well re- 
member how fully Laura’s time was occupied in teaching classes 
at the Mission House, or visiting among the sick and the poor, not 
only among the Indians, but among whites and blacks, wherever 
and whenever she was needed. Each visit was marked by some 
little gift of clothing or provisions, or both, accompanied by good 
advice. In 1837 occurred the ‘‘ Patriot War,” and during the 
winter the suffering among the poor was very great. The Mission 
was called upon every day, and many times in the day, to care for 
some poor, famished creature. 

51 


Z LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Cr 


Old White Chief, to whom Mr. Sheldon refers, be- 
longed to a certain white family who left the Atlantic 
coast many years ago to make a home in the wilder- 
ness of the Susquehanna. Neither their name nor na- 
tionality is known. They were attacked one day by a 
party of Indian scouts, and the father, having offered 
resistance, was put to death. The mother, while 
attempting to save herself and child by flight, was 
overtaken by her merciless pursuers and speedily 
dispatched. The four-year-old child in her arms was 
taken from her and borne away, and years after we 
find Mrs. Wright, accompanied by her brother, at his 
bedside, ministering to his necessities during his last 
hours. He had been bedridden three years, but was 
always patient through pain and weakness. He was 
an aged man when the missionaries first came to the 
tribe, but he and his son readily adopted the habits of 
civilized life. One of his sons built the first frame 
house on the Reservation and painted it red; hence he 
was called in Indian, ‘*‘ The-Man-with-the-Red-House.” 

White Chief had formerly a fine, erect form and 
delicate features. He was very tall. He was nat- 
urally very white, and in youth had long brown hair, 
which, when the missionaries first saw him, was white 
as snow. ‘The Indians testified that his whole life had 
been remarkably pure and upright in every respect, and 
that he was amiable and affectionate in his disposition. 


WHITE CAPTIVES. 53 


During these last years he was sincerely attached to 
Mr. and Mrs. Wright, and always rejoiced to see them. 
One day White Chief asked Mr. Wright to sit by his 
bedside and write his words, which, spoken of course 
in the Indian tongue, were as follows : — 


The last I remember of my mother, she was running, carrying 
me in her arms. Suddenly she fell to the ground on her face, and 
I was taken from her. Overwhelmed with fright, I knew nothing 
more until I opened my eyes to find myself in the lap of an Indian 
woman. Looking kindly down into my face she smiled on me, 
and gave me some dried deer’s meat and maple sugar. From that 
hour I believe she loved me as a mother. I am sure I returned to 
her the affection of a son. She supplied my wants as far as it was 
in her power, and did not like to have me go out of her sight, lest 
some evil should befall me. She made me moccasins and leg- 
gins of deerskin, and gave me a piece of the same which she put 
over my shoulders, bringing it down and fastening it about my 
waist with a belt of the skin. I always had a warm place at the 
fire, and slept in her arms. I was fed with the best food the 
wigwam could afford. As I grew older I used to play with chil- 
dren of my own age, and soon learned to compete with the best of 
them in running, leaping, playing ball, and using the bow, which 
my Indian mother put into my hands telling me she would cook 
for me all the squirrels and birds I would shoot. I often gave her 
much pleasure by bringing her game and demanding the fulfillment 
of her promise. She never disappointed me. 

As I grew older I sometimes excelled in the foot race, and I well 
remember that on one occasion, when I had outstripped all the other 
boys and received a hearty round of applause, they seemed much 
displeased. One of them said, ‘‘ I don’t care, he is nothing but 
a white boy!” I immediately hung my head and ran from the 
playground to my mother, and hiding my face in her lap, I cried 
bitterly and loudly. She soothed me as well as she could, asking 
what was the matter. After a while I was able to tell her the 
bitter taunt I had received. She took me in her arms and said, 
“Well, my son, it is true. You are a white boy. You can’t help 
it; but if you always do right and are smart, you will be none the 


54 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


worse for belonging to that wicked race. Whatever you under- 
take, do your best, and the Good Ruler will bless you.” 

I had often heard the Indians speak the name of the Great Ruler 
before, but I never thought he had anything to do with me, and 
now a feeling of awe came over me, and I resolved that if there 
was a great and good Being who knew me and would care for me, 
I would be good and do all I could to please him. I was careful 
after this not to do anything to make the other boys feel bad when 
we were at play. I loved my mother more than ever, though I 
could not help feeling humiliated to know that I was a pale face, 
and must bear that reproach all my days. 

The whole family by whom I was adopted treated me with 
uniform kindness, and regarded me, as I have reason to believe, 
with sincere affection. When they saw me excel in any boyish 
sports they manifested great pride in me. If my companions 
showed any disrespect or jealousy toward me they were ready to 
take my part. When I grew older they took me with them on 
their hunting excursions, taught me how to hunt and fish, and 
were delighted when I showed any aptitude in these pursuits. 

I was never reminded by a look or a word that I was not a son 
and brother of the family. When I grew to manhood, I went 
with them on the warpath against the neighboring tribes, but 
never against the white settlers, lest by some unlucky accident I 
might be recognized and claimed by former friends. In time I 
married and came with the tribe who settled upon this Buffalo 
Creek Reservation, since which time my life has been a very quiet 
one. I had three sons who grew to be good men. 

I was made a chief at an early age, and as my sons grew to man- 
hood they also were made chiefs. The family who had loved me 
and cared for me in my early days died, but I was still treated like 
a near relative by the clan of my Indian mother. 

After my youngest son was made chief I could see, as I thought, 
that some of the Indians were jealous of the distinction I enjoyed 
and it gave me uneasiness. This was the first time I ever enter- 
tained the thought of leaving my Indian friends. I felt sure that 
it was displeasing to the Indians to have three of my sons, as well 
as myself, promoted to the office of chief. My wife was well 
pleased to Jeave with me, and my sons said, ‘‘Father, we will go 
wherever you will lead us.” 

I then broke the subject to some of my Indian relatives, who 
were very much disturbed at my decision. They immediately 


D 


EDT 


WHITE CAPTIVES. 


called the chiefs and warriors together and laid the plan before 
them. They gravely deliberated upon the subject for some hours, 
and then a large majority decided that they would not consent to 
our leaving. They said, ‘‘ Wecannot give up our son and brother” 
(meaning myself) ‘‘nor our nephews” (meaning my children). 
“They have lived on our game and grown strong and powerful 
among us. They are good and true men. We cannot do without 
them. We cannot give them to the pale faces. We shall grow 
weak if they leave us. We will give them the best we have left. 
Let them choose where they will live. Noone shall disturb them. 
We need their wisdom and their strength to help us. If they are 
in high places, let them be there. We know they will honor us.” 
We yielded to their importunity and concluded to remain among 
our Indian friends. I have never had any reason to regret my 
decision. 

I have never known anything about my white relatives. I do 
not know where they lived, nor what language they spoke. My 
life in the wigwam with my Indian friends has been sweet and 
pleasant. At this time nearly all the generation to which I belong 
have passed on before me to the spirit land. A great change has 
come over the whole people. They have exchanged the tomahawk 
and scalping knife for the rifle, which is of very little use, as game 
has now nearly disappeared from the country. Instead of gar- 
ments of skin we are now clothed with warm blankets and cloth. 
Our people cultivate the land, raise corn and potatoes, and we live 
much more regularly than when in pursuit of wild game. In my 
opinion, notwithstanding the large territory which has been taken 
from us by white people, by cultivating the soil which is left to us 
we may obtain a more reliable and comfortable living than we 
ever did by hunting. 

Within a few years the missionaries have come to us and 
brought us a knowledge of the Christian religion. When I heard 
this good news, the white man’s way to be saved, I was impressed 
that this was the religion of my ancestors, and that by receiving it 
I might, if not in this world, still in another, find the friends from 
whom I had been so long separated. As I came to understand it 
better I realized that it brought me the Saviour I needed, and I 
gladly embraced it, with my whole family. 


Not long after this visit, White Chief sent a mes- 


senger in haste for Mr. and Mrs. Wright, who were 


56 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


at his bedside as soon as possible. Looking at them 
earnestly, with the tears streaming down his furrowed 
cheeks, he said :— 

‘¢Qne thing gives me great uneasiness. I under- 
stand no language but the Indian. I am afraid when 
I go into the other world that I shall not be able to 
communicate with my own white friends, because I 
shall not understand their language.” 

Mr. Wright assured him that there would be no 
difficulty in understanding one another in heaven; 
there would be but one language, and that one would 
be understood by all. He also told the dying man 
that no distinction of race, color, or language would 
be recognized there, because they would all be the 
children of God. These words greatly comforted 
him, and he passed away peacefully with a cheerful 
hope of a blessed immortality. 

In the papers left by Mrs. Wright is the following 
account of the captive, Mary Jemison :— 


Soon after I came to the Seneca Mission in 1833, I was told that 
Mary Jemison, “‘the White Woman” had recently removed 
from the Genesee Reservation, and was now living near the 
mission station. As I had often heard of her remarkable history, 
I felt a desire to see her, and was planning to make her a visit, 
when our interpreter called one day to tell us that he had seen her 
quite recently, and that she would be glad to see a missionary. 
She had never taken kindly to the efforts made to give her religious 
instruction, and was in fact as strong a pagan in her feelings as any 
of the Indians. I was therefore very glad to know that she was 
anxious to see any of us, and went to her the next day. I did 
not then understand the Seneca language, and took a young Indian 


WHITE CAPTIVES. 57 


girl with me as interpreter. I found the captive in a miserable 
hut, where she lived with her daughter. There was a low bunk in 
the room, made by placing a few boards on logs for supports. 
A straw tick covered with a blanket rested upon the boards. On 
this bed she lay asleep. She was curled up, her head drawn for- 
ward, and did not look much larger than a child ten years old. 
My interpreter told her daughter what had brought us to the 
house, and she said her mother did want to see us very much, and 
she was glad we had come. She then went to the bed and tried to 
wake the sleeping woman. This was such a difficult matter that I 
feared we should not be able to talk with her at all. Her daughter 
shook her repeatedly and raised her up and called to her that 
somebody wanted to see her, and at last succeeded in rousing her 
so that she recognized the presence of strangers. I then went 
forward and shook hands with her and told her that I had come to 
see her. As soon as she understood the object of my visit, she 
said, with sobs and tears :— 

“Oh, I am so glad you have come! A few nights ago I was 
lying awake thinking of my past life, how I had been taken away 
from my home, and how all my friends had been killed. Then I 
thought of my mother and her last words to me. It was our sec- 
ond night in the woods with the Indians. We had traveled all 
day, as fast as we could get along, for the Indians seemed to be 
afraid of pursuit and hurried us very much. When we stopped 
we were many miles from what had been our happy home only a 
few hours before, and we were all tired and faint for the want of 
food. My younger brothers and sisters soon went to sleep, and 
then my mother drew me to her side and putting her arm around 
me said, ‘My dear child, you are old enough to understand what 
a dreadful calamity has come upon us. We may be separated 
to-night, and God only knows whether we shall ever meet again. 
I want you to remember what you have been taught by your 
parents and never forget to say your prayer every night as lone 
as you live. If you are a good girl God will take care of you. 
Perhaps we may be killed and you may be spared. I want you to 
promise that you will remember what I have said.’ I promised 
my mother that I would do what she said; and then I was led 
away by an Indian and I lay down on the ground and cried 
myself to sleep. 

“That was the last time IT ever saw my father and mother, or 
my little brothers and sisters. For many years I never forgot my 
mother’s words, and always repeated the prayer every day; but 


58 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


after I had a family and was obliged to work hard to take care of 
my children, and had a great many troubles to think about, I began 
to neglect my prayer, and at last I forgot part of it, and was not 
sure that I remembered any of it right; and finally I stopped say- 
ing it regularly at all, although I have often thought about it. I 
was thinking of all this the other night, and I could not sleep. 
I thought I had done wrong to forget the promise I had made to 
my mother. I felt so badly that I began to cry and said a great 
many times out loud,‘ O God, have mercy on me!’ My daughter 
thought I was crazy and told me to stop crying and go to sleep, 
but I could not till daylight. The next day I sent word to the 
missionaries that I wanted to see them, and now you are come, I 
want you to tell me what I shall say when I pray, for I don’t 
know what to say since I have forgotten the prayer my mother 
taught me.” 

While she was telling me this story the tears streamed down the 
wrinkled cheeks, as she sat on the side of her low bed bent almost 
double. I told her she could not have said anything more appro- 
priate than ‘‘O God, have mercy on me!” I then repeated to 
her the Lord’s Prayer in English. She listened with a solemn, 
tender expression on her face till near the close, when suddenly it 
was evident a chord had been touched which vibrated with the far 
distant past and brought back memories both sweet and painful. 
She immediately became convulsed with weeping, and it was some 
time before she could speak. At last she said, ‘‘ That is the 
prayer my mother taught me, and which I have forgotten so many 
years! ”’ 

When she had regained her composure to some extent, I read to 
her from God’s Word, and tried to explain the gospel plan of sal- 
vation as simply as possible. I prayed with her and then bade her 
good-by, commending her to Him who will not break the bruised 
reed. I little thought it would be my last interview with this 
interesting woman. 

This is a remarkable instance of the permanent influence of a 
mother’s teaching. Fully three quarters of a century had passed 
since she had made the promise to her mother, which it was not 
strange she had not kept, and yet through memory of the broken 
promise, conscience at last was aroused and she was led to take 
up the long-neglected duty; and from what we learned from her 
daughter and others of her subsequent state of mind, we think 
she died in the cheering faith of the gospel, and not in the dark- 
ness of paganism. 


WHITE CAPTIVES. 59 


Reference has already been made to the old Indian 
burying ground, four miles from the city of Buffalo, 
New York. A little to the north of the principal en- 
trance is the grave of Red Jacket, so long the steady 
friend and protector of his people against the en- 
croachments of the whites, and still the watchful 
sentinel, as we might imagine, solemnly guarding 
from the desecrating touch of the pale faces this 
little spot, where many of his chosen friends recline 
around him. 

Nearly opposite the grave of Red Jacket, on the 
south of the entrance, stands a solitary white stone. 


9 


This is the grave of the ‘‘ old white woman,” Mary 
Jemison. The stone is partly broken and the in- 
scription defaced, for so strange has been the story 
of the ancient sleeper that strangers visiting the spot, 
and wishing to carry away some memento of the visit, 
have dared to desecrate the grave by chipping off por- 
tions of the marble. 

It is a little remarkable that so many of the 
persons who figured on the stage with her, and took 
part in the eventful scenes of which she was an eye- 
witness, should be brought into such close proximity 
with her in the last scene on earth in which they were 
concerned. Here they lie, side by side. The stern 
old warrior and his feeble victim might shake hands 
and exchange neighborly civilities. No stone marks 


60 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


the spot where these primitive nobles repose; but in 
old times the graves of Young-King, Little Billy, 
Twenty-Canoes, John Snow, Captain Pollard, and 
others were often pointed out to the eye of the curious 
traveler. 

In this historic burying ground was found upon a 
monument the following tribute to the Indian race :— 


A faithful history of all the captives who have been taken by 
the various Indian tribes, and adopted and grown up among them, 
would form a very interesting volume; and if such a record could 
be placed by the side of the record of Indian wrongs faithfully 
delineated, it may be doubted whether the comparison would not 
be greatly in favor of the Indians, so far as humanity is concerned; 
notwithstanding all that has been said and written of the cruelty 
of savages. 

Life in the woods of North America in those early times, under 
the most favorable circumstances, was fraught with severe suf- 
fering, and in a state of captivity, with the few comforts to be 
found in an Indian wigwam, dreadful indeed must have been the 
lot of those whom the chances of war threw into the power of an 
exasperated foe. But this captivity was only an incident of war, 
and no more cruel than the customs of civilized nations, who often 
burn whole cities and destroy provisions, so as to cause the great- 
est suffering among helpless women and children. 

There were indeed instances when they deemed it necessary to 
take summary vengeance on individuals and make them examples, 
in order to intimidate their enemies; but they oftener pursued the 
more humane policy of adopting them into their families and 
extending to them the rights and privileges they themselves 
enjoyed. In such cases the captive was always made to feel that 
adoption was not a mere form. Real affection, and in fact all that 
the heart prizes and longs after in relationship, was bestowed 
upon them. After the ceremony was over and a name given, they 
were taught to say, ‘‘ my father,” ‘‘my mother,” ‘“‘ my brother,” 
“*my sister.” 

It is remarkable that among those who have written on Indian 
character, so few have understood the subject. The masses still 


We 


WHITE CAPTIVES. 61 


entertain extremely unjust views of these people. How often do 
we hear it asserted of them that ‘‘ they never forgive an injury”! 
It is uniformly believed that their hate and their love are alike 
unending; that when in pursuit of vengeance they will stoop to 
almost any artifice to accomplish their ends; that they are cruel, 
and delight themselves in the sight of blood and suffering. True, 
their intercourse with civilized men and Christian men, to our 
shame be it spoken, has tended to bring these traits into active - 
exercise. In the early contests between the Indians and white 
men, the latter possessed every advantage over the former for 
offensive warfare, and this inequality drove the Indians to the 
skillful use of what means they did possess. They were forced to 
meet cruelty with cruelty, cunning with cunning, and perfidy 
with perfidy, in order ‘to compete successfully with the superior 
abilities of their foes. 

Contempt of pain and suffering among the ancient Spartans 
was considered an evidence of true greatness of soul, and 
instances of their unexampled endurance are applauded and ad- 
mired. The Indians embraced similar views, and it was con- 
sidered a special favor to give a brave man an opportunity to 
exhibit his fearlessness of torture and death. To put a speedy 
end to his life was the refinement of cruelty.as it entirely deprived 
him of an opportunity to earn the most valuable name a warrior 
could acquire. 

A truly brave man, they deemed, would never fear pain or death, 
however terrible might be its form. ’T was no uncommon thing 
for the victim at the stake to defy his tormentors to do their 
utmost, and again to taunt them with not being acquainted with 
means of producing the most exquisite suffering, and while endur- 
ing the most intense agony, he would often break forth into a 
triumphal war song and recite with the greatest coolness the won- 
derful feats he had performed, and the numbers of their people 
he had slain in former engagements, and then describe in tones of 
provoking irony the cowardly conduct of their chiefs and warriors, 
thus aiming to inflame their rage to the highest degree, regard- 
less of consequences to himself. Sometimes his persecutors, be- 
coming exasperated, would rush upon him and dispatch him at 
once. The memory of such an individual was always cherished 
with the utmost respect, and his example held up for the imitation 
of their youth. 

Educated to these views of what constituted a truly brave man, 


62 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


they scorned to complain, and often preserved the greatest self- 
possession and coolness, when enduring the most intense mental 
and physical suffering. Hence, to those who are but partially 
acquainted with their character, they have the reputation of being 
morose, stern, and cold-hearted. This is a mistake, for under all 
this affected frigidity of manner there runs as strong a current of 
warm affection as ever bubbled up in the heart of a white man. 


MOCCASIN. 


VIII. 


INDIAN CHARACTERS. 


NE of the most faithful friends of the mission- 

aries in those days was Young-King, the first 

chief among the Senecas to see the good influence of 

education and the Christian religion upon his people. 

His influence was very great, standing as he did so 
high as a warrior and a chief. 

Like too many, he also partook of the fire water, 
and for many years was a victim of intemperance. In 
a drunken brawl he lost an arm, and a finger from the 
remaining hand. After he became a Christian not 
one drop ever wet his lips. At one time on a journey 
he was thrown from his wagon and badly injured. 
When the physician came he was groaning upon the 
floor in a neighboring hut. Upon a table stood the 
whiskey bottle, which was an irresistible temptation to 
the pale-face doctor. He must drink before he could 
attend his patient. Young-King’s eyes flashed as he 
asked, ‘‘ What you drink there?” 

The doctor answered, ‘‘ Whiskey! and it will do 
you good ; you must take a glass.” 

‘*¢ You — drink — whiskey?” said the chief; ‘‘ then 
you no bleed me!” and though suffering intensely he 

63 


64 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


would allow nothing to be done for him by the man 
who drank whiskey. 

He was the first Indian who built a rod of fence on 
the Reservation, and often in the cold winter days he 
would be seen on Saturday crossing the creek in his 
little canoe to see if the mission church were supplied 
with fuel for the Sabbath; and if it were not, with his 
one hand he wielded the axe and chopped a little pile 
which he also carried to the door to be sure that it was 
ready for the morning service. He used to say : — 

‘¢T came so late into the Vineyard; I must work 
diligently to accomplish anything before I am called 
away.” 

This man could not read, yet he seemed to under- 
stand clearly the plan of redemption, the nature of 
_the atonement, and the intricate workings of the 
human heart. 

His fireside was characterized by old-fashioned hos- 
pitality. There the poor were welcomed, the hungry 
were fed, and the friendless received sympathy. 
Wicked white men did their utmost to tempt him to 
fall again into intemperance, but he always resisted 
firmly, and brought no dishonor in any way upon the 
cause of Christ. He died in 1835, and lies in the old 
Indian burying ground, where are also many other dis- 
tinguished men and women of the Senecas who first 
received Christian burial. 


INDIAN CHARACTERS. 65 


Mrs. Wright sometimes invited the Indian mothers 
to what we should now call a ‘‘ tea meeting.” They 
were at liberty to bring their needlework, which con- 
sisted in ornamenting their deerskin moccasins with 
porcupine quills, or their broadcloth skirts and leggins 
with beads, or perhaps fastening a quantity of silver 
brooches upon their short-gowns or hats. While thus 
occupied she read and explained gospel truths in their 
own language, sang hymns with them, and frequently 
encouraged them to tell her some story of old times. 
The simple repast, which had really brought them there 
and held them through the afternoon, was then served, 
and they went away to think of the ‘‘ good words” 
which had been spoken to them about the ‘‘ new way.” 
It was during one of these afternoon ‘‘ sociables”’ that 
an Indian woman gave the following reminiscence of 


Curer INFANT : — 


He was an old man when she was a young girl. He 
was a very strong man. She remembered hearing 
that during an Indian council when there were many 
white people present, some of them talked a good 
deal, and one man in particular was very noisy and 
quarrelsome. He was rebuked several times but still 
persisted in disturbing the council by his noisy, drunken 
babbling. At length Chief Infant arose and de- 
inanded of him that he keep quiet or leave the council. 


™ oe ee 


66 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


The cowardly fellow refused to obey and kept on 
swearing and threatening and boasting that he was not 
afraid of him or any one there. Chief Infant arose 
once more, went to him, and with great dignity and 
forbearance commanded him to go away and leave 
them to go on with their discussions in peace. The 
bully replied that he should not do either until he was 
ready. Chief Infant then took hold of the man’s arms 
below the elbows and squeezed them till the blood ran 
through between his fingers. The man cried for mercy 
and was released, and Chief Infant walked calmly 
back to his seat in the council. 

At the Treaty of ‘‘ Big Tree,’ as it was called, 
Chief Infant was present. An Englishman who was a 
regular boxer by profession was there to see the In- 
dians and doubtless to find a foeman worthy of his 
steel. When his eyes fell on Chief Infant he thought 
if he could fight and overconie such a magnificent 
looking man, he should make himself famous. So he 
began to feel of his opponent in rather a coaxing way 
at first, telling him he wanted to try the strength of 
the red man a little, that -he did not wish to hurt him, 
but would like to show him how Englishmen could 
fight in single combat. 

Chief Infant modestly declined, saying he did not 
wish to fight. The white man persisted in urging him, 


while the Indian still refused, saying it was a time of 


INDIAN CHARACTERS. 67 


peace and he did not wish to see blood running that 
day. The friends of the chief began to fear the white 
man would think him a coward and tried to coax him 
to try his strength, telling him that the swift move- 
ments and cunning arts in which the boxer had been 
educated would stand him in bad stead when matched 
against his strength and coolness, and that they would 
see that no undue advantage was taken of him. 

The white men who stood near now began to clamor 
for the fight, and offered money to the chief, till the 
sum amounted to one hundred and fifty dollars. Still 
the Indian seemed reluctant to fight until he saw that 
his friends were really ashamed of him, because they 
thought his conduct looked cowardly to the whites. 
He then arose and walked coolly toward the white 
man and thus addressed him : — 

‘¢ Brother, I do not wish to hurt you. We have 
met for peaceable discussion of important matters. 
My blood is not hot with anger. I do not hate you; 
but since you desire it so much, I will show you how 
we Indians fight.” 

The boxer immediately commenced to make his 
motions both offensive and defensive. But Chief In- 
fant came down upon him like a flash of lightning, 
seized him by both arms, breaking the bones of each 
and throwing him on the ground. He left him groan- 


ing in anguish and walked back to the council as 


68 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


if nothing of any consequence had happened. Such a 
shout rent the air aS was never heard before or since 


in that valley. 


Old Fish Hook came to the Mission House one day, 
with a sad story of his poverty, lameness, and general 
decrepitude. He complained bitterly of the cruel 
treatment he had received from white people, and 
begged Mr. Wright for a ‘* paper ” which should ap- 
peal to the mercy and charity of the pale face. The 
good missionary immediately provided the old man 
with the following impromptu : — 


TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. 


Indian. — Kind friend, this paper I present 

To ask a little aid; 

My wants, though seeming few, are great— 
I’m begging for my bread. 

For time and sickness, grief and pain, 
And flood and fire and frost 

Fell sadly on my destiny, 
And all my hopes are lost. 


White Man.— Nay, come not here! though true thy tale, 

As true perchance it is, 

Why should I help the Indian wild, 
With copper-colored phiz? 

An idle, thriftless, heathen race! 
Go home, and beg of them! 

My bread I earn by daily toil, 
Let Indians do the same. 


Indian. — But thou hast strength to toil, 
While I am sickly, weak, and old; 
Thy heart beats quick, thy blood is warm, 
While mine is slow and cold; 


INDIAN CHARACTERS. 69 


And thou may’st yet become like me, 
Ere life’s brief thread is spun; 

It will not be a thankless plea— 
Mercy for mercy done. 


as 


They say God portions out the lot 
Of all the sons of men; 

Why then revile the darker hue 
With which he tinged my skin? 
Thy Maker might have shaded deep 

Thy snow and lily face; 
If white excel — compassionate 
The less exalted race. 


They say God gave us all one blood, 
That brothers we might be; 

That kindred love might bind us all 
In one great family. 

Oh, spurn not, then, the Indian with 
His copper-colored phiz; 

Three fourths of the whole family 
Have skins as dark as his; 


And thou hadst been a heathen born, 
As thy forefathers were, 

Had not thy Maker interposed 
With kind paternal care. 

Why boast o’er me, then, whom he left, 
To follow on the road 

My dark-souled ancestors supposed 
The appointed way to God? 


And though, like them, my dogs I burn, 
Mock not with scornful eyes; 

For inercy in the heart, thou claim’st 
Thy nobler sacrifice. 

If thine the better way, and thou 
Hast hopes I ne’er may know — 

Grudge not the brief enjoyment here 
Thy bounty may bestow. 


10 


LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Besides, they say God gives to thee 
The privilege of prayer; 
That greatest, strangest mystery — 
To ask and He will hear; 
While us thou callest heathen vile — 
A reprobated race — 
Now might not God, if thou would’st pray, 
Give us too saving grace? 


If worldly good thou canst not spare, 
At least withhold not this; 

If thou art right, thou bear’st for us 
The key to heavenly bliss. 

And covetous of words of prayer 
Thou wilt not, canst not be; 

Wherever, then, thou bow’st the knee, 
Oh, plead for mine and me! 


Else, own thou thinkest not thy hope 
To be preferred to mine; 

And all thy claim to greater light, 
Or holier love, resign. 

For deeds of love, thy gospel saith, 
Shall thy memorial be; 

“* Because thou didst it unto these, 

Thou didst it unto Me.” 


And what by alms or faith or prayer 
Shall be for Indians done, 
May not be long delayed—the mist 
Now dims their setting sun. 
Some will be changed to white men soon — 
The rest will all be gone; 
None will remain to roam and beg 
In lands once all their own. 


SECRETARY STANTON said to General Halleck, “If Bishop 
Whipple comes here to tell us that our Indian system is a sink 
of iniquity, tell him we all know it; tell him the United States 
Government never redresses a wrong until the people demand 
it. When the hearts of the people are reached the Indians will 
be saved.” 


A LETTER of inquiry was once sent to General Cass asking 
whether he ever knew an instance of Indian war or massacre that 
was not provoked by the white man’s aggravation. To this letter 
was received the following laconic reply :— 


DEAR COLONEL :— 
Never! NEVER! NEVER! 
Yours truly, 
LEWIS CASS. 


‘““THERE are now in the state of New York about 5,000 descend- 
ants of the Iroquois. The red man in the Empire State owns 
about 88,000 acres of land. This fact makes him more enemies 
than do all other considerations. White men want this land, and 
are determined to get it by fair means or foul. Hence they are 
interested to defame and to exterminate the Indian, thus hoping 
to share his goods.” 


ib.e 
THE SEVEN YEARS’ TROUBLE. 


ND now we approach the ‘‘Seven Years’ 
A Trouble,” which was the darkest, most dif- 
ficult, most tempestuous, and altogether the most 
trying period in the missionary experience of both 
Mr. and Mrs. Wright, which at its close covered more 
than half a century. It is the same old story, and 
the ‘‘ White Man’s Treaty” is at the bottom of it. 

At this time (1837) the Senecas were quietly settled 
upon their four Reservations, which they had thus far 
held in uninterrupted possession. ‘These were called 
the Buffalo Creek Reservation, with which we have 
become familiar (now a part of the city of Buffalo) ; 
the Cattaraugus Reservation, lying upon the banks of 
the Cattaraugus Creek, and washed on the west by the 
waters of Lake Erie, occupying the three counties of 
Cattaraugus, Chautauqua, and Erie; the Allegheny 
Reservation, Pennsylvania, upon which the city of 
Salamanca is situated; and the Tonawanda Reserva- 
tion, near Tonawanda, New York. 

When the first Mission church was organized on the 
Buffalo Creek Reservation, the Indians began to get 


73 


a. 


74 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


acquainted with a better class of white people than 
they had known in the border settlers and soldiers, 
who brought them only the vices of our race. After 
much earnest work Christian influence began to tell 
upon them. Many chiefs embraced Christianity, and 
were leading their people in the same direction. The 
missionaries were joyfully reaping the fruits of years 
of effort, but alas! the Ogden Land Company now 
appeared upon the scene, and a season of fierce dis- 
cussion and dissension began, which did not in the 
least-abate until 1844. 

This company wanted the rich lands of the Senecas. 
To achieve this end they began by gaining an influence 
over the Indian chiefs through the magic power of 
money. Lach chief of influence soon discovered that 
he had but to ask to receive ‘‘ much gold,” by means 
of which he could supply every want, and even go 
through all the great country which had once belonged 
to his fathers, and see the wonderful life and power 
of the people whom these ‘‘ golden pale faces” repre- 
sented. The next step of the company was to organ- 
ize the ‘Migration Party,” by means of which this ! 
tribe was to be transplanted to Kansas. When these 
plans were well matured a general council of the 
Seneca chiefs was called to consider the question 
of selling their lands to the Ogden Land Company. 
Through the liberal bribery of the chiefs and the | 


THE SEVEN YEARS’ TROUBLE. 75 


most outrageous frauds, a bargain was consummated in 
January, 1838, which conveyed 114,869 acres of Indian 
Land to the Ogden Land Company, for $202,000. ‘The 
treaty was signed by President Martin Van Buren. 

But the faithful missionaries of these Indians were 
not idle in their cause. Every moment which could 
be spared from their ministrations to the people was 
used in collecting proof that the treaty was brought 
about through fraud and bribery. ‘This collection of 
proofs with ‘‘ protests” and ‘‘ memorials” was sent to 
Washington, and, through the influence of the Society 
of Friends, received attention. 

In 1842 a new treaty was prepared, which was 
signed by the chiefs, with the exception of the Tona- 
wanda chiefs, who did not sign either treaty. By this 
treaty, which they called the ‘‘ Compromise Treaty,” 
the Senecas retained the Cattaraugus and Allegheny 
Reservations, and relinquished the Buffalo and Ton- 
awanda to the Ogden Company.! 

This transaction, which took from the Seneeas all 
their reservations except Cattaraugus and Allegheny, 
was notoriously famous for the duplicity and abomi- 


nable wickedness connected with it. Several of the 


1The Tonawandas would not submit to this arrangement. They held 
out against this treaty for sixteen years, but the courts decided against 
them, and they would most surely have been obliged to go to Kansas, 
had it not been for a Special Act of Congress, allowing them to sell 
their Kansas lands to the government, and with that money buy back a 
part of their own Reservation. This special treaty was made in 1868, 


7 


76 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Christian chiefs were bribed by the white man’s money 
to sign the treaty. This so disgusted those who had 
not fully decided to accept the gospel that they re- 
turned to paganism. 

‘¢Red Jacket told us years ago,” they said, ‘ that 
if we took the religion of the pale face, we should 
lose our homes. His words were true.” } 

After the treaty of 1842 had been signed by the 
chiefs, the ‘* Buffalo Indians,” as they were called, 
who did not go to Kansas, filled with anger toward 
Christianity, began to move to the Cattaraugus Reser- 
vation. Then followed four years of bitterness and 
strife. The people who were thus thrust from their 
homes and driven from the graves of their fathers 
were not to be comforted or pacified. They were 
embittered against their chiefs, and the whole race of 
the Pale Face, including even their own missionaries. 
But notwithstanding the unjust accusations of these 
people, so desperately wounded, the patient, devoted 
missionaries, Mr. and Mrs. Wright, feeling the deepest 
sympathy for their sufferings, came with them to the 
Cattaraugus Reservation, and did much to alleviate 
their forlorn condition. With wonderful tact and 
marvelous judgment, seeking divine help through 
every hour of this bitter trial, they continued to 
minister to their charge, spiritually and physically. 
The troubled minds were daily comforted by these 


THE SEVEN YEARS’ TROUBLE. 77 


who could not, humanly speaking, see a ray of light 
in the future. 

As soon as possible the ‘‘ Buffalo Indians ” held a 
mass meeting and made a solemn resolve to have 
nothing to do with the gospel or the Christian Indians 
or the missionaries. 


> 


‘This new religion,” they said in their wrath, 
‘¢must be bad, since those who embraced it could be 
so dishonest, so unjust, so cruel.” 

Those who made this resolve have passed away, but 
their children to some extent hold the same prejudice 
against Christianity, and it has caused marked division 
between the two parties from that day to this. Mr. 
and Mrs. Wright, however, were always consulted with 
as much confidence by the pagan leaders as by their 


own Christian flock. 


Nearly forty years after this stormy period, Mr. 
Henry Silverheels, who well remembered those sad 
days, stood over the open grave of his beloved mis- 
sionary, Mr. Wright, and gave this simple, touching 
testimony : — 

‘There was a time when we had lost every foot of 
land we had in this state. Our chiefs had yielded to 
temptation, and been bribed by wicked men to sell 
our homes, and it was only a question of time when 


we should be driven away from all that was dear to 


et ee ee OOS ee 7 ak 


78 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


us. Mr. Wright, fully understanding the situation, 
went to a prominent member of the Ogden Land 
Company, and induced him to use his influence with 
the company to consent to a compromise, by which 
the Allegheny and Cattaraugus Reservations were 
restored to us. Thus it is that we owe our present 
comfortable homes to Mr. Wright’s love and care for 
us. Let us remember him with gratitude and try to 
live as he lived, for the honor of God and the good 
of our fellow men.” 


On ‘a bit of yellow paper is the following in Mrs. 
Wright’s handwriting, written during this period of 


trial : — 


CATTARAUGUS RESERVATION, December 31, 1846. 

The Lord’s mercies have been infinite towards me, although L 
have been an unworthy sinner. I desire, this last day of the year, 
in reviewing all the past, to acknowledge the unceasing goodness 
of God towards me, and I would ask his grace to help me to con- 
secrate myself anew to his service. ‘‘ Oh, the depths!” my soul 
exclaims while reviewing my whole life, and oh, my ingratitude 
and sin! O Lord, grant me help to serve thee better, to walk 
humbly before thee, and in such a manner that I may always feel 
the preciousness of Christ and his salvation. Leave me not to 
myself, lest I basely and presumptuously dishonor thy name, and 
ruin my own soul. Oh, may I lay myself at thy feet and quietly 
await the accomplishment of all thy holy will and pleasure con- 
cerning me, evermore. Amen. LAURA M. WRIGHT. 


During the two years following the removal of the 
Buffalo Indians to the Cattaraugus Reservation, it 


required divine wisdom and patience and skill to 


THE SEVEN YEARS’ TROUBLE. 79 


adjust the unhappy exiles to new conditions. The 
church work was necessarily interrupted. In 1848 the 
Indian nation underwent a revolution, and substituted 
a republican government for the government by chiefs. 
Ata convention held at the Cattaraugus Reservation, 
the delegates in a very firm manner abrogated the old 
government and proclaimed a new order of things 
after the manner of the founders of our own gov- 
ernment. 

By this new arrangement the supreme judiciary is 
composed of three judges designated as ‘‘ peace- 
makers.” ‘The legislative powers of the nation are 
vested in a council of eighteen, chosen by the uni- 
versal suffrages of the nation; but nothing is binding 
unless ratified by three quarters of all the voters and 
three quarters of all the mothers in the nation. 

One provision of this constitution exhibits a degree 
of national frugality well worthy of imitation by those 
gentlemen in our own Congress, who spend so much 
of the ‘‘ dear people’s”’ money in talking about their 
rights and interests. The Seneca Constitution declares 
that the compensation of members of the council shall 
be one dollar each, per day, while in session, but no 
member shall receive more than twenty-six dollars during 
any one year! With such a provision there will be no 
danger of their council becoming ‘‘ dilatory.” 


The following are the reasons given for changing 


80 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


their form of government and adopting a constitu- 


tional charter :— 


We, the people of the Seneca nation of Indians, 
humbly invoking the blessing of God upon our efforts 
to improve our condition, and to secure to our nation 
the demonstration of equitable and wholesome laws, 
do hereby abolish and annul our form of government 
by chiefs, because it has failed to answer the purpose 
for which all governments should be created. 

1. It affords no security in the enjoyment of 
property. 

2. It provides no laws regulating the institution of 
marriage, but tolerates polygamy. 

3. It contains no provision for the. poor, but leaves 
the destitute to perish. 

4. It leaves the people depending on foreign aid for 
the means of education. 

5. It has no judiciary nor executive departments. 

6. It is an irresponsible, self-created aristocracy. 

7. Its officers are absolute and unlimited in signing 
away the people’s rights, but indefinite in making 
regulations for their benefit or protection. 

We cannot enumerate the evils growing out of a 
system so defective, nor calculate its overpowering 
weight on the progress of improvement. But to 


remedy these defects we proclaim and establish a 


THE SEVEN YEARS’ TROUBLE. 81 


constitution, or charter, and implore the government 
of the United States, and the state of New York, to 
aid us in providing us with laws under which progress 
shall be possible. 


INDIAN BABY FRAME. 


The Indian mother has certainly invented the most convenient 
method of carrying and lullabying her baby. All babies are 
nearly of the same size, and nobody needs to be told how long 
or how wide a baby frame should be made. It is a straight board, 
sometimes with side vieces, and always with a hoop over the head 
from which to suspend a curtain for the 
protection of the little eyes from the sun, 
and to keep the child from harm should 
the baby frame fall. The child is envel- 
oped in a blanket and laced to the frame, 
which is carried upon the back of the 
mother by a strap which comes over the 
forehead, and with much less fatigue than 
inherarms. The baby is kept in the frame 
most of the time through infancy, and it 
is astonishing how contented it remains 
in its little prison. While the mother 
works in the field she hangs her baby 
on a low limb of a tree where it is rocked 
by the wind. When busy in the house 
she suspends it on a nail, or places the 


BABY FRAME. 


frame in a corner; sometimes she hangs it where she can swing 
it to and fro as she passes, singing as she goes the following 
lullaby, which loses much in the translation :— 


Swinging, swinging, lullaby, 
Sleep, my little one, sleep; 

It is your mother watching by; 
Swinging, swinging, she will keep 
Her little one, lullaby. 

Swinging, little one, 

Baby, baby, do not weep, 

Sleep, sleep, little one, 

And thy mother will be near, 
Little baby, lullaby. 


82 


X. 
A BOSTON GIRL AMONG THE INDIANS. 


HE missionary work upon the Cattaraugus Res- 
ervation was divided, Mr. and Mrs. Wright 


bd 


having charge of the ‘‘ upper mission station,” and 
Mr. Bliss and family the ‘‘lower mission station.” 
This family, with whom Mr. and Mrs. Wright worked 
in delightful harmony several years, was succeeded 
by the late Father Gleason, whose works still follow 
him among the Choctaws, Mohegans, and Senecas. 
Mr. Wright and Father Gleason were both college 
classmates of my father, Dr. Joseph S. Clark, of 
Boston, Massachusetts, and thus it came to pass that 
while yet in my teens the call came to join these 
devoted workers upon the Cattaraugus Reservation, 
and under commission of the American Board of 
Commissioners of Foreign Missions, to learn how 
to be a missionary. Miss Mary Kent, of Grantville, 
Massachusetts, was commissioned at the same time. 
Dr. and Mrs. Treat, Dr. A. C. Thompson, and my 
father were our companions on the journey. We can 
reach California to-day in less time than it took us 
then to go from Boston to this Indian Reservation on 
83 


84 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Lake Erie’s shore. We arrived at the railroad station 
nearest to the Reservation on Friday. As the lower 
Mission House was near the church, the whole party 
was entertained there over the Sabbath. 

Father Gleason and an Indian met us at the station. 
Mrs. Treat and myself were placed in the care of 
Nicholson H. Parker, the United States interpreter for 
these people, a tall, powerful Indian, who drove us 
over the nine miles through the woods to the Mission 
House. I remember that we were rather afraid of 
him, although he treated us with the utmost kindness, 
and wus in his manners ‘‘ every inch a gentleman.” 

I shall never forget the consecration meeting in 
Father Gleason’s study that evening. Dr. Treat’s 
prayer was a great comfort and inspiration to the 
young girl and her companion, just starting out in 
missionary life. ‘The musical tones and rare expres- 
sion with which Dr. Thompson repeated that entire 
hymn, ‘‘ Oh, could I speak the matchless worth!” 
linger with me yet. Missionaries were present at this 
meeting from other Indian reservations, forty, fifty, 
and even sixty miles away. They had come this dis- 
tance in rough lumber wagons at great inconvenience, 
to see these secretaries of the American Board and to 
welcome the new missionaries from Boston. 

During the evening I became interested in the 
sweet, careworn face of a lady sitting a little apart 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 85 


from the others. I did not know that she was 
Mrs. Wright. With closed eyes and bowed head she 
seemed lost to present surroundings in absorbed com- 
munion with God. - When, later in the evening, I was 
presented to her, she took both my hands in her own, 
looked at me earnestly for a moment, and said : — 

‘¢ Poor child! so young and so inexperienced! You 
ought to be at home with your mother. How little 
you dream of the life which is before you!” 

I had felt greatly attracted to her during the meet- 
ing, but these words chilled me, and I said, ‘‘Is there 
then no work here which a young Christian can do?” 

She hastened to comfort me. ‘‘If you are really 
one of the Lord’s consecrated ones, you will find work 
enough here. And who knows? your youth and 
inexperience may be used by God where our wisdom 
fails.” 

This was my introduction to Mrs. Wright, whose 
story we have followed as a child, maiden, and mis- 
sionary wife through forty-four years. A friendship 
was soon established between us which steadily gath- 
ered strength and sweetness to the last. 

The lower mission station was surrounded by a 
magnificent grove of maple, black walnut, and pine 
of wonderful growth. We used to call this station 
‘the bird’s nest.’”’ Sunday morning we all went to 


the Mission church, a plain wooden building seating 


86 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


about two hundred people. When we entered the 
church, Father Gleason was already in the pulpit with 
an Indian hymn book in one hand and the bell rope in 
the other, selecting hymns for the service, ringing the 
bell with all his might to call in the slow-moving 
Indians, and singing at the top of his voice the old 
hymn,— 3 
“‘The voice of free grace cries, 
e Escape to the mountain.’ ” 

This bell, by the way, was a present to the Christian In- 
dians from Dr. Hawes’ church, Hartford, Connecticut. 

Our seats faced the two doors of entrance and we 
had an opportunity to watch the people as they gath- 
ered. With dignity and reverence they entered the 
sacred house. The men took seats on one side, and 
the dogs which had followed them in curled up under 
their feet. The women occupied the other side of the 
church; many of them wore blankets and carried 
papooses on their backs. One of these mothers thus 
laden took a seat beside me. She gave her blanket a 
peculiar hitch, and the baby came over her shoulder 
into her lap. I sprang to catch the child, but found 
my fears were groundless. Although I saw this per- 
formance repeated hundreds of times in the seventeen 
years that I spent with this people, no child ever met 
with an accident, the baby seeming to understand 
how to slide safely over the shoulder in response 


‘NOILVLS YUAMOT ‘ASOOL] NOISSTIIL 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 87 


to the mother-hitch of the blanket. And so in time 
the audience consisted of men and dogs, women and 
babies, missionaries and teachers. 

Father Gleason never acquired the Seneca language. 
He preached and read the Scriptures through an inter- 
preter, Mr. Henry Silverheels, a tall Indian of com- 
manding presence, who used much more time in Indian 
than the missionary did in the English. A sermon 
of fifteen minutes’ length in English occupied three 
quarters of an hour in delivery. 

I shall never forget the singing. The weird, plain- 
tive Indian airs were too suggestive of the sad fate of 
this strange race, and after the first verse of the first 
hymn, I could control my feelings no longer, and 
yielded to a burst of sobs. The Indians decided that 
the young missionary from the ‘‘land of the rising 
sun” (Boston) was homesick, and although at the 
time there was no indication by look or manner that 
this strange outburst had been observed by them, they 
told me afterward that their hearts went out in great 
sympathy to the young girl so far from her mother. 

At intervals during the service, certain dogs became 
uneasy, and wandered about, even upon the steps of 
the pulpit. Then Father Gleason, giving Silverheels 
a long sentence to interpret, started after them with 
his cane and drove them out of the house, coming 
back to the pulpit somewhat out of breath, but in sea- 


88 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


son to proceed with the next division of his discourse. 
The service was very long. After a while a baby 
began to cry; the mother made no attempt to quiet 
the child. Another baby followed suit, and still 
another, until several babies were crying at once. 
Then the dogs began to howl; and with the crying 
babies and howling dogs the good missionary was 
obliged to terminate his sermon and let us go home. 

The day after this first Sabbath, Drs. Treat and 
Thompson, Mrs. Treat, my father, and other visitors, 
took their departure on their way to a missionary 
meeting farther west, and I was left alone among 
strangers. For a little time I was overcome by this 
thought, and the responsibility which I had taken of 
becoming a messenger of God to this people. I 
found a quiet corner in the Mission House and yielded 


to my feelings. After a time the tempest was stilled, - 


and the message came to my heart, ‘‘ Have not I 
commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage. 
Be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed, for I am with 
thee, and will keep thee whithersoever thou goest;” 
‘¢] will strengthen thee.” 

The loving devotion of Mrs. Gleason and_ her 
daughters and the overflowing spirits and good cheer 
of Father Gleason were a great help to me in those 
days. 

The missionaries decided to place me in a settle- 


a 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 89 


ment seven miles from the Mission House, upon the 
shore of the lake. I was placed in the family of an 
Indian chief to board, and my kingdom was a little 
schoolhouse in the woods. The house of the chief 
was old and loosely built. The window of my room 
opened upon the lake and it was not uncommon for the 
snows of winter to drift in upon my bed and upon 
the floor. The chief with whom I boarded was a man 
of education and culture. He had the remarkable gift 
of interpreting as a whole any address or sermon — 
which might be given to the people by some orator 
or distinguished preacher visiting the Reservation who 
could not manage the ordinary interpretation sentence 
by sentence. He had rare power of memory, and 
could repeat word for word any discussion or conver- 
sation. ‘There were certain Indian men in the family 
whose business it was to wait upon him. He was 
never known to black his boots or harness a horse or 
attend to the slightest detail of the house or farm, 
which consisted of some two hundred acres. He 
spent his time reading, writing, visiting among white 
people many miles away, and looking after the inter- 
ests of his tribe. His wife, a white lady, was de- 
votedly attached to him. Her strong affection never 
wavered a moment from the time she married him, 
at the age of fifteen, until the hour of his death. 
She never regretted the step she had taken, although 


90 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


disowned by parents and friends for doing it. It was 
a comfort to her, however, surrounded as she was by 
Indians, to have the companionship of one of her own 
race. She had a large family of children who attended 
my school in the woods. 

One other inmate of this family was the aged mother 
of the chief, who did not speak a word of English and 
was never reconciled to his marriage with a white 
woman. It may be said that as to the white wife, this 
was the skeleton in the family, and many a time the 
missionary teacher was obliged to make peace between 
the two. As soon as the children could lisp the word 
‘¢mamma”’ the old grandmother commenced to teach 
them the Indian language and to use all her influence 
to instill into their minds Indian beliefs, Indian super- 
stitions, and the Indian religion. They were all bright 
children and not easily influenced in these matters. 
The daughters, as wives of white men, are now hap- 
pily settled in life among people of their mother’s race. 

The first morning, when I started to go to the little 
schoolhouse in the woods, I was appalled by the sight 
of a herd of cattle outside the door. There were 
horses, colts, cows, calves, pigs, and dogs. I went 
back and said to the chief :— 

‘¢T have always lived in a city, and have not been 
accustomed to seeing animals loose in the streets. I 


999 
. 


am afraid to pass them alone. Will you go with me 


AMONG THE INDIANS. oie 


With great courtesy he accompanied me to the 
schoolhouse. I said :— 

‘¢ Will you come for me at noon and go home with 
me?” 

I shall never forget the expression of his face as he 
turned and said to me, ‘‘ You have come a long way 
to live with us, and to teach these Indians the Jesus 
Way. NowI want to say something to you. If you 
are afraid of anything, you can never win these 
Indians to the Jesus Way, for they despise a coward. 
If you wish to have any influence over them, you must 
be very brave.” 

‘¢ But,” I said, ‘‘I am not brave. I am afraid of 
spiders and mice and snakes and dogs and _ these- 
animals on the road. What shall I do?” and I 
recalled with a shudder the experience of the night 
before, when I discovered a family of mice keeping 
house in my straw bed. 

‘¢The one thing for you to do,’ said he, ‘‘is to 
hide your fear. Never show it in the presence of the 
people. I will come for you this noon if you ask me 
to, but knowing that you wish to win these people to 
your religion I thought it wise to tell you this.” 

I said, ‘‘Do not come for me this noon. If I am 
not brave at heart, I will, at least, be brave out- 
wardly.” He left me alone in the little schoolroom. 


It was a sacred moment with me, for there in the 


92 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


solitude of those woods I asked from One who never 
fails us, strength to do the work, give the message, 
win this people, and be delivered from physical fear. 
My little flock began to gather. I soon found that I 
was to have a company of all ages, from the child 
three years old to married men and women. With 
my ignorance of the Indian language and their igno- 
rance of the English the situation was peculiar. It 
occurred to me many times during those first weeks to 
wonder of what use my education would be to me, 
shut up in a little schoolhouse in the woods on an 
Indian reservation. But I soon learned that I needed. 
all the education that I had received, added to all the 
wit, wisdom, and common sense I could command, to 
master the situation. Books were of very little use. 
While I taught them English they taught me Indian, 
and I was soon able to make my own schoolbooks, 
which gave them the rudiments of the many things I 
wished them to know, and prepared them for a better 
understanding of the ordinary schoolbook when they 
should have sufficient English at their command. 

I think I have never been happier than during those 
two years in that secluded neighborhood of Indians, 
whom I loved, and who loved me, and where in every 
home I was a welcome and favored guest. It was 
their joy to help carry out my wishes in every respect 
as far as they possibly could. Life in the woods with 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 93 


these children of nature, although so different from 
the city life to which I had been accustomed, seems 
even now a delightful dream. 

At first they tested me in different ways as to my 
courage, knowledge, and ability. One night I sat in 
the deserted schoolhouse writing a letter home. I 
had heard no footstep but my attention was arrested 
suddenly by a hissing sound. I turned and saw an 
animal entirely new to me. The malicious expression 
of the eyes terrified me. It was an opossum. My 
first impulse was to leap upon the table and scream ; 
then the thought flashed into my mind, ‘‘ This is a test 
of your courage and you are being watched”; so I 
turned back and went on writing; but the letter 
written with shaking hand gave evidence of my fear. 
Then I heard a shout, and from under the windows of 
the little schoolhouse three men leaped up and said, 
‘She is n’t afraid! she isn’t afraid!” and the opossum 
was carried away. 

Soon after this I was asked to go through a 
certain lonely ravine, which some of the Indians 
believed to be inhabited by witches; and when I 
expressed my willingness to pass through this place, 
and I did it, though with much trembling, — not 
through any fear of witches, but of snakes, — they 
again pronounced me very brave. 

One day while my school was in session, three men 


94 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


came to the door and said, ‘‘ We want you to come 
out into the woods and tell us what to do.” 

I immediately followed them, again trembling in- 
wardly through fear that I should not be equal to the 
emergency. On the way I asked, ‘‘ What is it?” 

‘¢ Well,” said the leader, ‘‘ we have been cutting 
down a very large tree. We have cut off the branches, 
and it belongs to two of us, and we each want an 
equal amount of the wood to carry away ; and we want 
to know exactly where to cut this big tree, which is 
very large at the bottom and very small at the top, so 
that he will have as much wood as I shall have.” 

As I followed these men to the woods, I ransacked 
my brain for an illustration in mathematics which 
might help to tell them where to strike the vital point 
of that tree, but without avail. Even though I knew 
by figures where the cut should be made, if they could 
not be made to understand the figures, they would 
never feel satisfied that it was the right place. How 
was I to know just where to divide this tree and to 
prove to them, in their ignorance of all mathematical 
rules, that I was right? 

And here the lesson which I was learning in all 
these days was again emphasized. This was one of 
the little things, the everyday items of life, in which 
I might have wisdom from above if I would but ask; 
but while I lifted my heart in earnest petition for this 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 95 


wisdom, not a ray of light came to me until we 
reached the woods. Here was the long log. There 
were a couple of Indian ponies hitched to a tree; there 
were ropes with which each was to drag away his 
own section, and close by was a fallen tree. Like an 
inspiration a plan came to me. I said : — 

‘¢Cut the upper branches from that fallen tree, so 
far (indicating the measure) ; tie a rope to the log; 
let your horses draw it over the fallen tree; stop them 
when it balances.” 

They obeyed directions, and when at last the long 
pine log rested and balanced upon the fallen tree, I 
said, ‘‘ Cut it there.” 

They saw at once that the division must be equal if 
the log were perfectly balanced, and a shout rent the 
air: ‘‘ This lady from the ‘land of the rising sun,’ 
she knows everything.” And during that one hour 
an influence was gained over those young men which 
under ordinary circumstances might not have been 
gained in years. 

My duties in this settlement were not confined 
simply to teaching, but included the duties of pastor 
and pastor’s wife. I visited the sick, ministered to the 
dying, helped the friends of the dead to prepare them 
for burial, and occasionally conducted a burial service. 

During a blessed revival of religion in my school a 
number of the young people were converted, among 


96 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


others a frail young girl who was greatly distressed 
about her father, a backslider. I missed her from 
school one day, went to her home, and found her very 
ill with pneumonia. Day after day during the week I 
was by her bedside, and I knew that she must die. 
The one thought in her mind during all those days of 
suffering was the spiritual condition of her father. 
One day she said to me: — 

*¢ Do you think I shall die?” 

I said, ‘* Yes, dear; you will soon be with Jesus.” 
The cold sweat was already on her brow. | 

‘¢ How soon do you think it will be?” 

‘¢ Well, you may live an hour, and the time may 
be less.” 

She said, ‘‘ Please call my father.” 

He was outside the house in great sorrow, for he 
loved this child devotedly. When he went into the 
room she said : — 

‘¢ Father, I want you to take me out by the brook. 
I want to hear it sing once more.” 

He took her in his arms and carried her out beside 
the little brook running by their house. She beckoned 
me to follow. 


‘¢ Father,” said she, ‘‘I am going to leave you. I 


am going home to Jesus, and when I get there I want 
to tell him that my father prays. I want you to pray 
now, father.” 


AMONG THE INDIANS. AGE 


‘¢T cannot do it, my child,” said he. ‘I have not 


prayed for years.” 

‘¢ Pray just once, father, so I can tell Jesus as soon 
as I see him, ‘ My father prays.’”’ 

The man could not resist the pleading of the child 
and began to pray. His heart was melted as he 
poured out the story of his sins before God. He 
seemed to forget the child in his arms, but I had been 
watching her, and while this honest prayer of peni- 
_ tence was going forth from the heart of the returning 
prodigal, her spirit winged its way to tell the glad 
news, ‘*‘ My father prays!” 


One day I was called to the cabin of a pagan family 
who had utterly resisted all efforts to win them to the 
Jesus Way. One of the daughters had been per- 
mitted to come to the school, but seemed thus far 
unaffected by Christian influences. I had missed her 
from her accustomed seat, but as they lived quite a 
distance from the schoolhouse I had not been to look 
her up. One day the mother came to me and said : — 

‘‘ My daughter is dying. We have made her grave- 
clothes. She has seen them all and is satisfied with 
them.” 

It was a great comfort to the Indians in their last 
hours to be permitted to see the clothes in which they 
were to be buried. ‘‘ But there is one thing,” she 


98 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


continued, ‘‘ which we cannot make. She wants a pair 
of lace sleeves like those she has seen you wear.” 

Some flowing lace sleeves, after the fashion of the 
day, had been embroidered for me by my mother, and 
I had occasionally worn them, to the great delight of 
the Indians, who are very fond of embroidery. The 
mother said : — 

‘¢ We cannot make these sleeves for her. Can you 
do it?” 

I said, ‘‘ Yes, I can do it; and I will do it upon 
one condition.” 

‘¢ What is it?” said she eagerly. 

‘¢'That I may embroider the sleeves by the side of 
your daughter’s bed, and that I may be allowed to 
say to her just what I please.” 

‘¢PDo you mean,” said she, ‘‘to talk to her about 
the Jesus Way?” 

‘¢ Yes, that is what I mean. I want to prepare her 
to meet her God.” 

‘+ It cannot be, 


> 


said the pagan woman; and she 
turned away sorrowfully. 

This was hard for me, but I believed that through 
the pleading of the daughter I should in the end be 
allowed to have my own way. The daughter was in 
consumption, and would probably linger for some 
time. I must wait. In two days the mother returned 


and said :— 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 99 


‘‘ My daughter gives me no peace. She wants the 
sleeves for her burial.” 

I said, ‘¢ She shall have them upon my conditions.” 

‘¢Ts there no other way?” said she. 

‘¢ No other way,” I replied. 

‘¢Then it shall be as you say,” said the mother. 

I had already sent by mail for the necessary ma- 
terials that I might be ready for this opportunity, and 
at once went home with the mother. From that time I 
spent one hour each day by the bedside of the young 
girl, embroidering the lace, while she watched every 
stitch taken with the keenest interest. During that 
hour the room was filled with pagan women, also watch- 
ing with fascinated eyes the progress of the embroi- 
dery, and I need not add that not one moment of the 
hour was lost in giving to this dying girl the message 
of the gospel, while her pagan friends were obliged to 
listen to the same truths. The result was that the dear 
child died a triumphant death through faith in Christ, 
and the women commenced from that time to attend 
the Mission church and to hear the regular preaching 
of the Word. We have reason to believe that they 
have all joined the redeemed throng on the other side. 


The young men and women in my school were 
addicted to the free use of tobacco, to which the 
young men added fire water. The floor often looked 


100 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


as though afflicted with the smallpox. The only 
clean place in the whole room was the space about my 
desk, which they were all careful not to pollute. As 
soon as they could understand me, I made a rule, and 
printed it in large letters upon the blackboard. It 
was the first rule I had made in this school : — 


DO NOT SPIT UPON THE FLOOR. 


‘¢What shall we do?” said the young people. 
‘¢We cannot swallow this juice; it will kill us.” 

Tobacco is a very sacred herb with the Indians, and 
they are so fond of it that I knew it was useless to 
fight against the habit after the usual methods; so 
I said : — 

‘¢T have this floor scrubbed every three days. It 
takes a great deal of strength to do it, and it is very 
hard for me to see it soiled so quickly, and that is why 
I make this rule. I will tell you what you can do. 
When you come to the door of the schoolhouse take 
the tobacco out of your mouths and put it away some- 
where, and during recess while you are out of the 
room you can have it again. In this way we will keep 
the floor of our schoolhouse white and clean.” 

It was very hard for them at first, but they per- 
severed ; and finding that they sometimes forgot the 


quid even at recess, I said: — 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 101 


‘¢ Would it not be a good plan to keep your mouth 
as clean as the floor?” 

One of them said, ‘‘I did not think I could get along 
without it one hour, and now sometimes it is not in my 
mouth during the whole day. I am willing to give it 
up, and have a clean mouth.” 

Then I helped them draw up a pledge to give up 
tobacco and fire water, which was signed by all. the 
older pupils of the school. This was the first tem- 
perance society, and the people were greatly inter- 
ested in it. We held temperance meetings and had 
temperance addresses and discussions by the young 
people both in Indian and English, in which the 
parents took great delight. 


One of these young men was induced to join a 
company of white men to go ‘‘rafting,” as they 
called it, upon the Alleghany River. These raftsmen, 
who were addicted to the free use of liquor, finally 
observed that the young Indian never tasted it. They 
asked him the reason. He said he belonged to a tem- 
perance club and had solemnly promised never to 
taste it again. They laughed him to scorn, and said :— 

‘¢ We will soon teach you, you miserable redskin, 
how much such a promise is worth.” 

But in vain they tempted him. He would not yield. 
They were furious, and resolved to conquer his will 


102 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


by heroic measures. One day they handed him a glass 
of whiskey, but when he declined as usual they pushed 
him into the river. He swam to the edge of the raft, 
and taking hold of it begged them to let him come on 
board. They said :— 

‘6 Yes, if you will take the whiskey.” 

He replied, ‘* I cannot break my promise.” 

Then they unloosed his fingers from the edge of the 
raft, and pushed him awzy from it. He was getting 
exhausted and sank; rising to the surface again he 
clung once more to the raft. 

‘¢ Will you take the whiskey?” said the men. 

‘¢T cannot break my promise,” said the Indian. 

Again they loosened his hold upon the raft, and 
again he sank, to rise no more. I do not think the 
men intended to murder him, for they were too 
intoxicated to realize their cruelty or to plan such a 
crime; but in the sight of God, that young Indian 
was a martyr to the truth. 


When the Indians wish to confer a very great honor 
upon a missionary, they adopt him into the tribe and 
give him an Indian name. I shall not soon forget the 
day when this honor was conferred upon me. A mass 
meeting was called and preparations made for a great 
feast. There were many kettles of boiling o-nooh- 
gwah —a stew of corn, beans, potatoes, turnips, car- 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 103 


rots, onions, etc., with a plentiful supply of salt pork. 
I was placed upon a rude platform where every one of 
those piercing black eyes could watch me. An old 
sachem stood by my side talking in Indian, while the 
audience responded at intervals in an exclamatory 
affirmative. His speech, being interpreted, was as 
follows : — | 

‘¢Our sister, we believe you to be our friend, and we 
now proceed to adopt you into our nation. We shall 
call you from this time forth Go-wah-dah-dyah-seh 
(She pushes us ahead). 

‘¢ We give you an Indian mother and father, sisters 
and brothers. If they are sick, you must nurse them ; 
if they are in trouble, you must comfort them; if they 
have good fortune, you must rejoice with them; if they 
are poor, you must give them money; and they must 
do the same by you.” 

These relatives were then separately brought for- 
ward and introduced to me. I had many opportunities 
in the months and years following to fulfill my obliga- 
tions to them, and I am glad to testify that from them 
I have always received the affection and kindness 
which they give to one who really belongs to them. 

After the speech I was invited to partake of the 
feast, — the o-nooh-qwah, — which was served in 
wooden bowls and eaten with large wooden spoons 
or ladles. 


104 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


After two years of this delightful missionary serv- 
ice it occurred to my father and mother that they 
ought to see where and how their young daugh- 
ter was living; and so they took a journey to the 
Reservation. ‘They came to my Indian home. I had 
never written to them the details as to my accommo- 
dations, simply telling them about the missionary 
work. While the privations and inconveniences of the 
life seemed hardly worth noticing to the enthusiastic 
young girl, to my parents, fresh from city privi- 
leges, they seemed unendurable. And within an hour 
I was told to pack my trunk and go home with them. 
My mother said : — 

‘¢T shall never sleep another night, thinking of the 
life you are living here.” 

In vain I remonstrated, in vain I set before her my 
love for the people and their love for me. I. was 
taken home, and kept there until dear Mrs. Wright 
wrote to my mother, ‘‘ If you will intrust your daugh- 
ter to my care, she shall become a member of my 
family, and live under the shelter of the Mission 
House.” 

This new arrangement took me nine miles away 
from my first field of labor and I found myself among 
new environments and more comfortably situated ; but 
the attachment to my ‘ first love’ never waned. 


AMONG THE INDIANS. 105 


The Missionary Board soon invited me to become a 
general missionary having the whole Reservation as my 
field. And so it came to pass that my days were spent 
with Mrs. Wright visiting from house to house, hold- 
ing meetings, and carrying the glad message in all 
directions among these people. I was furnished with 
horses, wagon, saddle, and in fact whatever was 
needed to aid in the general missionary work ; and the 
restof my life on this Reservation was one of constant 
companionship with her who gave me the devotion of 
a mother, and to whom I returned the loyal affection 
of a daughter. In all the happy years that followed 
we were seldom separated, and the lessons which the 
young girl learned from this noble, consecrated woman 
have influenced all my later life. 


FIREFLY, firefly, bright little thing, 

Light me to bed and my song I will sing, 

Give me your light as you fly o’er my head, 

That I may merrily go to my bed. 

Give me your light o’er the grass as you creep, 

That I may joyfully go to my sleep. 

Come, little firefly —come, little beast! 

Come, and I[’ll make you to-morrow a feast. 

Come, little candle that flies as I sing, 

Bright little fairy bug— night’s little king — 

Come and I[’]] dance as you guide me along, 

Come, and I’li pay you, my bug, with a song. 
— Translation of a song by Indian children at play. 


XI. 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 


SENECA MISSION, June 10, 1854. 

Dear Husband,— How I wish I could see you this morning! 
What a blessed thing is entire confidence between husband and 
wife! What a comfort to know that though ever so widely sepa- 
rated, our hearts are the same, and we have no corroding fears of 
change there! You will think I am getting quite sentimental, and 
perhaps it will do me good to revive some such feelings. I some- 
times think we have too much of real life, and need a little 
romance to quicken our sensibilities. I am thankful to subscribe 
myself, your loving wife, LAURA M. WRIGHT. 
T pleased God to bring this devoted missionary, 
Mrs. Wright, into deeper experiences of real life 

and richer experiences of his grace. The summer 
following the short absence of Mr. Wright which 
furnished the wife another opportunity, as seen by 
the above letter, to give him a glimpse of her loyal, 
loving heart, was a season of extreme destitution and 
suffering throughout the Reservation. Mr. and Mrs. 
Wright, always active in seeking out and relieving the 
wants of the distressed, were appalled at the amount 
of sickness prevailing about them, and at their inability 
to extend adequate relief to the afflicted Indians, many 
of whom were actually dying of starvation. Early 
and late through these sad days, they labored on, 


109 


110 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


imploring pecuniary aid from such friends as they 
could reach. Before winter they painfully realized 
that still greater suffering must ensue. Then they 
sent out more earnest appeals to the far and near. 
The cry for help reached the ears, the heart, and 
the pocket of a member of the Society of Friends, 
Philip Thomas, who had previously manifested a 
generous interest in the work. 

Encouraged by promises of aid from this good man, 
Mr. and Mrs. Wright received into their own family 
ten sick and starving Indian children, thus assuming 
in addition to their other labors a load of care equal 
to their utmost capacity. Is it possible for those who 
live in luxury and ease, and general unresponsibility, 
to comprehend such a. sacrifice? Thus began that 
flourishing institution, the THomas OrpHan Asylum, 
for destitute Indian children, which is now so conspic- 
uous an ornament upon the Cattaraugus Reservation. 
This institution, an invaluable blessing to the whole 
Six Nations of the Iroquois, stands to-day as one of 
the many memorials of two consecrated lives. But of 
those who take such pride in the fine buildings, fitted 
with all modern conveniences, the cultivated acres and 
the lovely grounds, where one hundred Indian children 
are comfortably sheltered and trained to be self-sup- 
porting men and women, how many look back with 
grateful remembrance to this self-sacrificing, noble 


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THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. lil 


man and woman, but for whose indefatigable labors, 
wise forethought, and judicious management there would 
be no refuge for the forsaken Indian child to-day ! 

How was it done? Philip Thomas, who represents 
that sect which has yet to make the first mistake in its 
management and treatment of the Indian, gave a 
generous start to this move which appealed so strongly 
to his judgment and charity, and which was to be 
under the guidance of Mr. and Mrs. Wright, in whose 
wise management he had unbounded confidence. Be- 
nevolent people in Buffalo and surrounding towns, 
through the efforts of the missionaries, were induced to 
follow suit. Then Mr. Wright went to Albany, and 
enduring much hardship there, at length obtained a 
small appropriation from the state. The next step 
was to secure a piece of land from the council of the 
Seneca nation, upon which a building might be erected. 
Through the unwearied efforts of these same mission- 
aries, from whose vocabulary the words ‘‘ rest” and 
‘¢ vacation” seem to have been wiped out, the build- 
ing was at last erected, and great was the joy when 
the little Indian waifs, already gathered at the Mission 
House, were transplanted to the new asylum, ofly a 
few rods away, to be cared for by a motherly matron, 
who was to teach the girls all housewifely arts, while 
the boys were trained upon the farm by a practical 
Christian farmer, 


112 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


The building accommodated one hundred children, 
and as the family steadily increased in numbers, a 
neat schoolhouse was placed upon the grounds, and 
under the care of Christian teachers these children 
received the advantages of a district school. At the 
age of fifteen they were placed in the families of 
Christian people in neighboring towns, who promised 
to care for them as for their own. In a multitude of 
cases this promise was faithfully fulfilled. 

But the rapidly increasing family demands a larger 
appropriation, else these little waifs must return to the 
terrible life from which they have been rescued; and 
again the patient missionary assumes the (to his sen-. 
sitive nature) distasteful task of appearing before the 
legislature at Albany to solicit an increased appro- 
priation. While on this mission his courage is 
strengthened by daily letters from one who fully 
appreciates the difficulties of his position. 


SENECA MISSION, February 24, 1859. 

My dearest Husband,— You don’t know how I hate to have 
you away so long, but I feel perfectly willing you should go, if 
anything can be done for the Asylum, for I am confident that it 
must go down soon unless something can be done. I feel that I 
could make almost any sacrifice to save the institution, but you 
must not think that I am making any sacrifice. I am not. It is 
you, and it is for your sake that I am troubled. Go in God’s 
strength, believing that he who hears the young ravens when they 
ery will go with you and lead you in the right path and prosper 
your way before you. The hearts of all men are in God’s hand 
and he can influence them as he shall see best. I hope and trust 


bod 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 113 


you will succeed. Be bold! Don’t feel faint-hearted in this cause, 
because you know it is one in which any one can be bold. I want 
to say a great deal to help you, but you are well acquainted with 
the best sources of encouragement. Your loving wife, 

LavuRA M. WRIGHT. 


In a few weeks Mr. Wright returned with the joyful 
intelligence that his petition had been granted, and 
the good work for the little ones was permitted to go 
on. A few incidents will suffice to show the need of 
such an institution and its blessed ministry to the 
Indian : — 


Upon one of her missionary tours, Mrs. Wright was 
startled by the screams of a child which seemed to 
come from the bank of the creek. MHastening to the 
spot, she discovered an old Indian woman in the act 
of drowning a little boy. She held him under the 
water until life was nearly extinct. After rescuing 
the child from the woman and restoring him to life, 
Mrs. Wright asked the reason for such cruelty. 


bd 


‘¢f am his grandmother,” said the old creature. 
‘¢His father and mother are dead, and I am tired 
of him!” 

Mrs. Wright wrapped the child in her shawl and 
drove to the asylum, where, after a warm bath and a 
bowl of bread and milk, he was tucked into a comfort- 
able bed for the first time in his desolate little life. 


The first English words which he tried to say were 


114 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢Great many goods!” (good things) and with many 
a laugh he was frequently heard shouting these words, 
as he ran through the house or about the grounds. 


An Indian mother, to whom life had brought 
nothing but suffering and hardship, resolved that her 
baby daughter should never travel the same hard road. 
Wrapping the babe in a small blanket, she walked to 
the nearest railroad, laid it upon the track, and went 
away. The engineer of the next train saw the bundle, 
and, stopping the train, picked it up, much surprised 
to find it alive. The baby was passed around among 
the passengers, until a lady, recognizing it as an 
Indian baby, offered to take it to the Indian res- 
ervation. She brought it to Mrs. Wright, who gladly 
placed it among the orphaned babes in the asylum. 


A wicked woman, whose child had been taken from 
her and placed in the asylum, stole it away one night. 
The child was wretched while traveling from place to 
place with her mother, who compelled her to beg. 
One night she escaped, and finding her way back to 
the asylum implored them to take her in. ‘* And if 
my mother comes again, oh! hide me, I beg you, and 
be very stingy of me!” 


One day Mrs. Wright saw a very strange-looking 
object before her on the road, which proved to be a 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 115 


small boy, dressed in the cast-off clothing of a man. 
Mrs. Wright spoke to him kindly and drew from him 
the sad fact that he had no home, no friends, but was 
kicked about from one place to another, and was suf- 
fering from cold and hunger. His little body proved 
the truth of his words, for it was well covered with 
black and blue spots. She placed him in the asylum, 
where he was clothed and fed, and slept for the first 
time within his memory in a warm bed. His grati- 
tude to her was pathetic. Every time she entered the 
building he was sure to get near enough to take hold 
of her dress reverently, and say again and again in his 
own language, ‘‘I thank you! I thank you! I thank 
you!” 


A pagan Indian and his wife lived happily together 
in a log house on a clearing which they had made 
in the woods. Four bright-eyed little ones were 
given them, to whom they were tenderly attached. 
One pleasant spring morning the mother rose early, 
and commenced pounding corn in a large wooden 
mortar, for the breakfast of her husband and children. 
These mortars may still be seen standing at the doors 
of the Indian homes. While pounding the corn, a 
little bird, attracted probably by the broken bits of 
corn about, hovered near her, and finally lighted upon 
her head. This incident struck terror to her heart, 


116 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


for the Indians believe it to be an omen of evil. 
After feeding the children she slung her basket upon 
her back, holding it in place by a large strap which 
she passed across her forehead, and started off on a 
journey of several miles to sell some beadwork and 
buy a few necessaries for her family. Toward night 
she returned, and before morning another little one 
was added to the group; but the Indian mother was 
very ill and knew that she must die. She said to 
a pagan neighbor who stood by her :— 

‘¢ A few weeks ago Mrs. Wright was here. She 
told me about a wonderful Being who can take away 
our sins. I said to her that I would like him to take 
away my sins. Do you think that will help me, now 
that I must die?” 

The sympathizing neighbor, as benighted as she, 
could only answer, ‘‘I do not know; I cannot tell 
you;” but she walked three miles to bring the lady 
who knew about this wonderful Being who could take 
away sin. When they arrived, the spirit of the mother 
had returned to God. Mrs. Wright tried to comfort 
the mourning husband, and offered to take the chil- 
dren with her to the asylum. With wild eyes he 
gathered them into his arms, and rudely bade her to 
leave the cabin. With a yearning pity she obeyed, 
but begged him to come to her when he needed a 
friend. 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 117 


The poor man sustained the double office of nurse 
and housekeeper until the falling of the autumn 
leaves reminded him that through the approaching 
winter he could not alone provide for the wants of his 
children. Then, with quivering lips he came to the 
Mission House and begged Mrs. Wright to take his 
little flock. The next day the asylum team stood by 
the door of the cabin; Mrs. Wright found the children 
clinging to one another, with swollen eyes, while the 
father walked the floor with the youngest in his arms. 
The suffering face gave evidence of the struggle 
within. The missionary solemnly promised him that 
his children should be most tenderly cared for, and 
tried to lead his mind to that Saviour who loved the 
little ones. He said not one word, but taking each 
child separately from the house, he placed it in the 
wagon, and when the last had been put out of his 
arms, he begged them all to be good and obey their 
new protectors. 

These children soon became much attached to their 
new home, and with simple faith accepted Jesus Christ 
as their Saviour. ‘The father frequently visited them, 
and was by their little hands led into the Jesus Way. 


One of the family in the asylum was a child de- 
serted by pagan parents, because of troublesome ail- 
ments. Everything possible was done to relieve the 


118 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


child, but in vain. She was a patient sufferer for 
along time. She seldom spoke to us in English, but 
on the night of her death, arousing from a stupor in 
which she had lain for hours, she pointed with her 
little, emaciated finger to the wall, and with her face 
aglow with a radiance not of earth, exclaimed : — 

“See lisea.t ~ 

‘¢ What do you see?” was asked. 

‘¢ Christ! Christ!” and immediately the spirit of 
this lamb of the spiritual fold took its flight to the 
arms of the heavenly Shepherd. 


An Indian mother, a strong, healthy woman, who 
planted corn, carried heavy loads besides her baby 
upon her back, and supported a worthless husband, 
was taken suddenly ill. Nobody knew what was the 
matter; she was in great pain. While her husband 
was chafing her hands she cried out, ‘‘O Ben, Ben, 
I am dying! Don’t let my baby starve!” and in 
an instant she was quite dead. The baby began to 
scream violently. He strapped it upon his back and 
took the little three-year-old by the hand, and was 
about to start out to call the neighbors, the nearest 
of whom lived a quarter of a mile away. 

‘¢No,” said the little girl, pulling back, ‘‘I shall 
stay by my mother.” 

The father lifted her upon the bed, and there the 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 119 


child remained, keeping watch over the lifeless form 
until he returned. 

After the funeral the little girl was placed in the 
asylum, and became a great pet there. But the 
father would not part with the baby! Through cold 
and wet and wind and rain that child was always 
strapped upon his back. Many and many a time you 
might have seen him with his baby in the saloons in 
some white settlement carousing with drunken com- 
panions, or reeling home. Such exposure proved too 
much for the little thing and it began to look very 
thin and haggard. Its large, bright eyes shone with a 
painful luster. 

Finally, after a protracted season of intoxication, 
Ben brought the wasted baby to the asylum. It 
was almost starved to death; the sight of bread and 
milk made it nearly frantic. It had to be fed very 
carefully at first, but soon the little life, almost ex- 
tinct, was brought back. ‘The tiny creature began to 
put out its arms to every one who came near it with 
a happy smile. 

Ben managed to live without his baby a few weeks 
and then, growing desperate, resolved to sign the 
pledge if we would give him back his treasure. He 
promised fair, but we did not dare to trust him until 
he should continue in the good way a while. He 
thought this very cruel treatment and one night he 


120 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


broke into the asylum, went softly upstairs, stole his 
baby, and departed for the Canada woods. When 
last heard from, Ben had reformed and was taking 
good care of his child. 


The school connected with the asylum was taught 
by a faithful missionary teacher. There came a time 
when, in answer to earnest prayer, the Spirit of God 
seemed hovering over that Indian school. One morn- 
ing the Bible lesson was upon the sufferings and death 
of Christ. Every little form was hushed into quiet, 
every eye was fixed in earnest inquiry upon the face 
of the teacher as she urged them to accept this won- 
derful Friend, who for love of them had given up 
his life. 

‘¢Poor forsaken ones!” thought the teacher. 
‘¢Was there ever a flock who needed the tender 
care of the Shepherd more than my motherless 
ones?” 

.For they had been left friendless and homeless in 
the wide world, to perish by the wayside, or, worse, 
to become educated to every crime by surrounding 
influences; it had indeed been a blessed work to 
gather them into this Indian Orphan Asylum, where 
they were not only clothed and fed, but daily taught 
the sweet truths of the gospel. 

The burden of these souls, a burden which God had 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. Lot 


lately rolled upon her heart with new power, was 
becoming almost more than she could bear; and in 
anguish of spirit she implored the Great Physician of 
souls to visit her Indian school. How her faith was 
strengthened when, during the exercises of the fore- 
noon, a girl of twelve years stood before her with a 
glow of softened feeling upon her face! 

‘¢Teacher,” said she, ‘‘I prayed to Jesus this 
morning.” 

‘¢Did you?” 

‘¢ Yes; and Cora prayed with me.” 

‘¢ What did you and Cora tell Jesus?” 

‘s We said we wanted new, clean hearts that would 
love him.” 

‘¢ And do you love him now?” 

‘¢ Yes, ma’am;”’ with childlike simplicity. 

As each day witnessed new temptations to sin, over- 
come for the sake of pleasing Christ, their teacher felt 
that the good work had indeed commenced. She en- 
deavored to place herself more entirely under the 
direction of the Holy Spirit, that she might wisely and 
faithfully guide these precious souls. 

As the interest deepened, the exercises of the 
school were suspended during a part of one afternoon 
each week to hold a ‘‘ children’s meeting.” It was 
thought not best to admit the younger classes to the 
first meeting of this kind, for fear they might make 


nm — eS = TS)” 


122 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


some disturbance. To tell the truth, the faith of this 
teacher was growing strong for her older pupils, but 
she had forgotten that her Saviour said, ‘‘ Suffer the 
little ones” ; and so they were sent away. 

How she was rebuked the next day as one of these 
same ‘little ones” clasped her teacher’s hand in both 
her own, and, looking into her face with earnest, 
thoughtful eyes, exclaimed in broken English, ‘* You 
can’t willing me to pray? I too little?” 

With tears of contrition she took the child upon 
her lap, saying, ‘‘ No, my child, you are not too little. 
Jesus will hear you; he has left some precious words 
on purpose for you.” 

From that time the teacher’s faith was strong for 
the lambs. They were no longer excluded from the 
prayer meeting; and soon their sweet child voices 
were heard in petitions like these: ‘‘ Dear Jesus, 
please give me new, clean heart.” And do you sup- 
pose He who took the little ones ‘in his arms and 
blessed them is deaf to such petitions as_ these? 
How delightful were the days and weeks that fol- 
lowed! The new love in those young hearts gave 
an earnest thoughtfulness to faces hitherto dull and 
listless. And while imparting useful knowledge 
to the mind, the constant prayer of the teacher was 
that the wants of each soul might. never be neg- 
lected. 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 128 


And now these Indian children have entered upon 
the Christian life. Is there any change in their habits? 
Do their lives shine? We shall see. 


Stella Tallchief had naturally a quick temper. It 
was not an unusual thing during recitation to see her 
book taking wings in some unaccountable direction, 
because its owner had not thoroughly mastered her 
lesson. 

One day she came to her teacher and said, ‘‘I have 
been giving my heart to Jesus. I want to be a Chris- 
tian.” Her teacher pointed out some failings which 
she must overcome if she would please Christ — 
among others, her ungovernable temper. Stella ear- 
nestly entered into the struggle against her besetting 
sin, and by much fervent prayer she seemed to gain 
strength each day to resist. But one day, not being 
‘fon guard,” she fell, and for a few moments was 
overcome by her old enemy. After school she seemed 
overwhelmed with a sense of her sin, and begged her 
teacher to pray for her, which she did. Then Stella 
fell upon her face, and, when her sobs somewhat sub- 
sided, in a broken voice offered this prayer : — 

‘‘Q Jesus, I’m very wicked. Please make me 
good. Don’t make me good little while. Please make 
me good all the time. O Jesus, my heart very bad. 
Please give me clean heart, all washed white with 


124 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Jesus’ blood. Don’t give me clean heart little while. 
I want it clean all the time. O Jesus, make me love 
thee. Please don’t let me love thee little while. I 


want to love thee all the time.” 


One day Eva Sundown was left alone to sweep the 
schoolhouse. Having occasion to return, the teacher 
found the broom lying upon the floor and Eva sob- 
bing violently. 

‘¢ Why, my dear child, what is the matter?” ex- 
claimed the teacher anxiously. 

‘¢Oh,” sobbed the child, ‘‘I don’t love Jesus 
enough! I’m a very wicked girl.” 

‘¢ What have you been doing, Eva?” asked the 
teacher gently. 

‘¢T got mad at some girls in school to-day.” 

‘¢ Did you strike them?” | 

Ob vidoe) 

‘Why, Eva, what did you do?” 

‘¢ I looked mad at them!” said the child with a fresh 
burst of sobs. 

‘s Was that all?” asked the teacher, much relieved. 

‘¢ All?” cried Eva, looking straight into the teach- 
er’s eyes; ‘‘ didn’t you tell me that Jesus looks in 
my heart, to see if I really love him? Well, I was 
very mad in my heart. That’s what made me look 


mad.” 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 125 


There, in the schoolhouse, the teacher knelt with 
the penitent child, and asked Jesus to forgive the sin 
and cleanse the little heart from everything which 
could grieve him. A little while after, happy Eva 
was busily plying the broom, and singing : — 

** Jesus loves me, this I know, 
For the Bible tells me so.” 

That God’s Spirit was working upon their hearts is 
manifest from the following letters from some of these 
Indian orphan children. 

The first one was written to a brother in the 
army : — 


I will write to you few lines. Dear boy, you must try to do 
right always. You must pray to God to keep you from sin. God 
will hear you when you pray to him with aright heart. Don’t be 
ashamed to do right. Go, doing good. God will help you if: you 
ask him. I want you to be Christian, and go to meet me in 
heaven, when you die. Try to please him little things. Brother, 
get ready to die, and God will take you to heaven to meet your 
sisters and mother. And now, brother, good-by. Do-all you can 
to please Jesus. 


With a heart filled with gratitude for what Jesus 
had done for her own soul, this dear child could not 
rest until others were enjoying the same rich blessing. 
Her anxiety for a young friend who seemed not quite 
decided to give up all for Christ led her to write the 
following note one day, during school hours : — 


Do you think that you love Jesus? I hope you do. I think that 
I love Jesus, but I want to love him better. 


ee a $a eR | adh, ‘ » i” i 


126 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Won’t you be a child of God? I want you to be a good girl. 
Maybe God will let us die to-night. Are you ready? Iam ready, 
for he has cleansed me. 

Now, won’t you be a Christian? Jam glad if you are trying to 
be Christ’s lamb. I pray for you; will you remember me? 


Here are other notes and letters which are self- 


explanatory : — 


I pray in earnest. I want to be Jesus’ lamb and follow him all 
the way to heaven. I pray very much for my brother who is not 
a Christian. I pray that I may not sin. I don’t left out any days 
in my praying. I pray in the morning and afternoon and at night 
every day. I love my pray meeting. It comes every week on 
Monday. I am happy—I cannot help it—Ising because I am 
happy. I shall meet my mother and sister in heaven. 


i did n’t want to love Jesus once, but my sister —she ask Jesus 
to make me want to love him—and so he did. I don’t want to 
be bad now, but sometimes Satan he tempt me to do wrong— 
and sometimes—I mind Satan. I feel bad then, but when I tell 
Jesus he forgives me, and I am happy in my heart again. 


I am thinking about my sins this week. They trouble me. I 
do not sleep. To-day I thought, ‘‘ Why, Jesus did forgive me 
sure!” TI want to do right in every little thing. I shall be a very 
wicked child if Jesus does not help me. 


You said you wanted us to tell the Jitt/est child about Jesus. I 
have been telling little Helen Yellow Blanket. I feel so happy to 
do something for Jesus. Is n’t be good to take us just as we are! 
I thought once —I don’t know enough to love Jesus. He does n’t 
care for that! 


The following is from an Indian orphan girl to the 


missionary pastor : — 


My dear Mr. Curtis,—Iam feeling pretty bad to-night. I can 
never be happy again until I ask your forgiveness. I did play and 
whisper in meeting to-day. [am very sorry. I-hope I shall never 
do such a wicked thing again. Will you forgive me? Will you 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 127 


pray that I may do right? I find it hard. When I think, Now I 
will surely do right, there are more temptations before me. I am 
trying to-night to seek the Saviour with all my heart. Oh, I wish 
I was as good as you! I could be happy if I was half as good. 

Mr. Curtis, if you ever see me whispering in meeting again I 
want you to call my name right out in church. This will break 
me of it, I am sure. Will you try and forgive me? From your 
sorrowful little girl. 

Oh, the friends of blessed memory who led these 
pagan children to Christ! Mr. and Mrs. Wright, Mr. 
and Mrs. Hall, Mr. and Mrs. N. H. Pierce; and those 
faithful missionary teachers, Misses Mary Kent, Cor- 
nelia Eddy, Katie Dole, Clara Dole, Sylvia Joslin, 
Mary Brown, and many others still held in grateful 
remembrance by those who were once sheltered in 


that happy Orphans’ Home. 


One day I visited the Indian Orphan School for the 
purpose of holding a prayer meeting with the boys. 


As we were about to open the meeting Blue Sky sud- 


denly left his seat and, seizing his bow and arrows, 
was leaving the room. I called, ‘‘ Blue Sky, wait a 
moment. Where are you going?” 

‘¢Going away,” he replied, with Indian brevity. 

‘* But why do you leave the meeting ?” 

‘¢Can’t be Christian no more—Satan—he tempt 
me—too much. Give it up!” 
‘¢Q Blue Sky,” I exclaimed, ‘‘ come back! Go 


into the little room, and while we pray, you think 


128 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


about this question, and give me the answer when I 
come to you: Shall I give up Jesus and mind Satan? 
or shall I give up Satan and mind Jesus?” 

The boys prayed that Blue Sky might decide for 
Jesus. When I opened the door of the little room, 
he exclaimed, ‘‘Me—can’t give up Jesus—and 
mind Satan!” 

We sent this boy away to school, and in course of 


time received the following letter : — 


Dear Friends, —I like this place very well. I was homesick at 
first, but now I am happy. I have company now in my room — 
another boy. I read the Bible every day, night and morning, and 
when I get through with one chapter, then I kneel down and pray 
to our heavenly Father who takes care of me and keeps me from 
sin. It helps me— great deal. 

But when that boy came here and when we got into our room, 
I had a great trouble in my mind. I did not know what to do. I 
was afraid to read my Bible and pray before that boy. This 
thought was in my mind about fifteen minutes. At last I said to 
the boy, ‘‘ Do you ever pray?” 

He said, *‘ No!” 

IT had never seen him before; he is older than I am. When he 
said ‘‘ No!” I felt more afraid) I was a coward before God for 
fifteen minutes. 

Then God helped me. I made up my mind to keep right on just 
as I did before that boy came. I thought, ‘ This is my duty. I 
must show that I am on the Lord’s side, anyway! Then it came 
to me what we used to sing at the Orphan Asylum:— 


Never be afraid to speak for Jesus, 
Think how much a word can do. 
Never be afraid to own your Saviour, 
He who loves and cares for you. 


I thought about these words, and then I got the Bible off from 
the table and read a chapter in it. I said to the boy :— 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 129 


“This is my way. I shall always do so. I shall read the Book 
and pray before we go to bed.” 

And so, when I got through reading, then 1 knelt down by the 
bed and I pray to our Father. And now I and that boy read 
the Bible every day—I pray. I feel happy now; but I came very 
near giving up to Satan. 

Wi-yu’s father and mother were pagans. She never 
heard a word about Jesus Christ until she came to 
the asylum. We were glad to take the children of 
pagans, even while both parents were living. One 
day Wi-yu (pronounced We-you) walked up to me 
and said: ‘* I want to give myself away to you.” I 
was much surprised, but looked into the little girl’s 
black eyes, and said: ‘*‘ Why does Wi-yu wish to give 
herself to me?” ‘‘ Because,” said she simply, ‘* lL love 
you.” After this, they all called Wi-yu my little girl. 

One day while Wi-yu sat by my side learning how 
to hem a pocket handkerchief neatly, I asked her if 
she loved Jesus, of whom I had been talking to her. 
‘* No,” she said, ‘*I do not; but I want to. I want 
to be a Christian, but I’m too little.” 

‘¢ But Jesus says, ‘Suffer the little children to come 
unto me.’ ” 

‘¢T don’t know how to go to him: I don’t know 
what to do,” said she. 

*¢ Wi-yu,” said I, ‘‘ you must give yourself away to 
him.” She looked at me in surprise. 

‘¢ How can I do that?” she exclaimed. 

** How did you give yourself away to me?” 


130 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢T came to you, and asked you to take me, because 
I love you.” 

‘¢ Why do you love me, dear?” She hesitated a 
moment, and then answered: ‘‘I1 think it must be 
because you love me.” 

‘¢ Yes, Wi-yu; that’s just the reason. Now, Jesus 
has been loving you all this time, while you have not 
been caring in the least for him.” 

She stopped sewing and sat very still a while, 
thinking. I did not saya word, because I knew the 
Holy Spirit was teaching her. At last she said : — 

‘‘ Would Jesus be willing for me to give myself 
away to him just as I did to you?” 

‘¢ Certainly, my dear child; that is exactly what he 
wants you to do. He wants all of you, too. He 
wants your little feet to run for him, your lips and 
tongue to speak for him, and your whole heart to 
love him.” 

After some more quiet thinking, Wi-yu knelt by my 
side and said: ‘* My dear Jesus, I give myself away 
to you. I give you my hands, my feet, my mouth. 
my tongue, and my heart; I give you all of myself. 
Please take me, dear Jesus.” She arose and said : — 

*¢ Do you think he heard me?” 

‘¢T am sure of it,” said I; ‘‘ and you will find his 
answer in your little Testament.” ‘Together we found 
these precious words in her Indian Testament: ‘** Any 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 181 


one that cometh unto me, I will not thrust aside.” 
Believing that Jesus meant just what he said, she 
from this moment knew that she was his own dear, 
saved child. 

A few days after this, I said to her: ‘* Wi-yu, after 
you had given yourself to me, did you try any harder 
to please me?”’ 

‘¢Oh, yes!” said she, with a bright face, ‘I tried 
to please you in everything —even in the very little 
things.” 

‘‘ Are you willing to do anything that will please 
Jesus?” 

‘¢T think I am,” she answered. 

‘¢ Will you tell the other girls that you are now 
trying to live a Christian life?”’ 

She hung her head and blushed. ‘‘ I am ashamed 
to tell them,” said she. 

‘¢Were you ashamed to tell them that you had 
given yourself to me?” 

‘¢Oh, no, indeed !” 

‘¢ And yet, my Wi-yu, you are ashamed of Jesus, 
your most precious Friend, your wonderful Friend, 
who loves you so much, and who saves you from 
your sins! O Wi-yu! Wi-yu! Let us ask him now to 
forgive you and to help you please him, even in this.” 

We knelt, and Wi-yu said, with a voice choking 
with sobs: ‘*‘ Mv own dear Jesus, please forgive me 


132 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


for being ashamed and afraid, and help me te tell 
them all that I have given myself away to you.” 
When we arose, she said, ‘‘ I can tell them now! I 
will tell everybody.” 

On her way to find her schoolmates, she met a 
minister who was visiting the Indians, and of whom 
she was very much afraid, because he was a stranger; 
but, mustering up all her courage, she looked up to 
him, and said: ‘‘I have given myself away to Jesus.” 

He was much surprised and touched as he thought 
of his own daughter at home, who knew so much more 
about Jesus than this Indian girl, and who had not yet 
begun to love him. He put his arm about our little 
timid Wi-yu, and said some very kind and helpful 
things to her. After this, she found it easier to tell 
them all, and even gained courage to write to her 
stern, pagan father, although she was quite sure he 
would be very angry with her. Here is a copy of the 
letter : — 


My dear Father, —I have given myself away to Jesus, and [ 
am not afraid nor ashamed to tell you of it. Your little Wi-yu. 


Her father was alone when this message reached 
him, and nobody knows what he thought; but the very 
next Sabbath he walked several miles to the Mission 
church, and heard the missionary preach about this 


same Jesus to whom his little daughter had given her- 


THE INDIAN ORPHAN ASYLUM. 133 


self; and after that he kept coming, until he too 
became a Christian man, to the great joy of our Wi-yu. 

Thus this Indian girl learned the most precious 
lesson that can ever be learned: how to give herself 
away to Jesus, how to trust him wholly, and how to 
obey him cheerfully and lovingly, no matter what he 
wishes her to do. 


XII. 
BY THE WAY. 


HE arrival of the mail was an event of intense 
interest at the mission, but a letter from David 
G. Eldridge, of Yarmouth, Massachusetts, telling us 
that the gift of an old-fashioned chaise was on the 
way, by canal, to the Reservation, caused great excite- 
ment. ‘Is it possible,” said Mrs. Wright, ‘‘that at 
last my poor head is to be protected from sun and 
wind and rain and snow during our long drives!” 
Mr. Wright dampened our ardor somewhat by a sug- 
gestion that the new vehicle might not take kindly to 
the mud holes of the Indian roads. 

When the chaise reached Buffalo some one had to 
go after it with a horse, as the last thirty miles of its 
journey were to be taken by land. Several Indians 
volunteered to do this, so curious were they to see ‘‘a 
wagon with two wheels and a cover.” 

The successful candidate returned with the chaise 
in due time, and solemnly admonished all within the 
sound of his voice to have nothing to do with this 
‘‘evil invention of the white man.” ‘The mode of har- 
nessing a horse to the chaise differing from ordinary 

135 


136 LIFE AMONU THE IROQUOIS. 


harnessing, the bewildered charioteer found himself 
‘‘ looking into the sky” several times on the way 
home. 

When Mrs. Wright and I were about to take our 
first chaise ride, we were particular to have the straps 
securely adjusted, lest we too should find ourselves 
suddenly ‘‘ looking into the sky.” At the start we 
were followed by an admiring crowd, but after a while 
in the solitude of the woods we were free to exult in 
the happy exchange of the hard, springless seat of 
the rickety, open wagon for the soft cushions and 
protecting cover of our New England chaise. 

Alas! our exultation was short-lived. With the cus- 
tomary plunge into a mud hole stretching entirely 
across the road, Ruhama made safe passage to the 
other side; but the unlucky chaise remained in the 
center of that black sea, stuck fast, its thills thrown 
upward like imploring arms, its occupants ‘‘ looking 
into the sky!” Ruhama stopped and, regarding us 
a moment in dignified surprise, began to nibble the 
surrounding bushes. After a somewhat prolonged 
discussion of ‘‘ the way out” we were forced to sub- 
mit to the inevitable, and, descending into the black 
sea, with some difficulty we brought the uplifted thills 
to a horizontal position, drew out the heavy chaise, 
attached it to the patient beast, and turned our faces 
homeward, passing through other holes with becoming 


BY THE WAY. Tt 


caution. Arriving at the Mission House, we were glad 
to exchange our mud-soaked garments for something 


more respectable and comfortable. 


Peter Twenty-Canoes was the great-grandson of a 
man who owned ‘‘ many canoes”; yet this descend- 
ant was shiftless in the extreme. His love for fire 
water was his greatest affliction. King Alcohol led 
the man into a multitude of scrapes, and left him to 
find his way out as best he could. 

One day, being overcome by an unusual spasm of 
industry, Mr. Twenty-Canoes borrowed a scythe, and 
resolved to work out a while. Alas! he couldn’t 
begin without his dram, which resulted in a fall upon 
the scythe, cutting open one side of his face, and en- 
tirely taking off his nose! It was a blessed accident 
te him, however, for it led to his reformation. 

The ingenuity of our Indian was now taxed to its 
utmost to supply the very important feature which he 
had lost. While visiting at the Mission House one 
day, he observed some adhesive plaster with which 
Mrs. Wright was dressing a wound. 

‘‘That’s the thing for me!” said Mr. Twenty- 
Canoes, with considerable energy. We gave him a 
small piece, which he immediately formed into a re- 
spectable nose, and fastened upon his face. The 


man was jubilant, and no longer walked among his 


- 


138 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


fellow creatures noseless. This manufactured article 
was at times in quite a dilapidated condition, but on 
gala days it was fresh and new. Mr. Twenty-Canoes 
was fond of variety ; consequently, no two noses were 
of the same shape and size, which gave a refreshing 
diversity to the expression of his countenance. 

This Indian was fond of exhibiting his little stock 
of English upon every available occasion. He scented 
a polysyllable a long way off, and brought it to bear 
upon his conversation in a way quite remarkable. 
He wrote me a note one day, in which he endeavored 
to express his appreciation of my worth to his peo- 
ple : — 

Miss C.: Respected Sir, — Task to know how long commence 
school again on our district. I ought not to been so negligence 
with my boy, and I had been recommend it, that you are mostly 
confidence missionary as than any others among Indians, that is 
to your capacity to instruct the Indians in the way to the morality, 
life, and perseverance for human intelligence. I know you will 
not afail and omission too much inform me the set time to com- 
mence school on our ‘neighborhood. 


Your respectable friend, 
TWENTY-CANOES. 


Mr. Twenty-Canoes kindly volunteered at one time 
to write a ‘*‘ begging paper” for an old woman to take 
to white people, and thereby obtain the necessaries of 
life. As the poor creature made her first effort with 
the missionaries, | had an opportunity to copy the 


manuscript verbatim, 


BY THE WAY. 139 


BEGGING PAPER. 


To all whom it may concern the bearer of Sally Silverheels 
which she is very old of age unable her to care of herself had no 
family to see her supported whosoever to do this thing to rendered 
unto or attribute towards the needy and indeficient the god will 
bless you for your great bounty of charity such thing as provision 
and she will be very thankfully to you give to her that article 
little money or clothing or anything. TWENTY-CANOES. 


Twenty-Canoes was once asked to assist in drawing 
up a Temperance Constitution. Of the ten articles, I 


have space for only three : — 


1. This sogiety shall always be open in prayer by some benevo- 
lent religious person. 

2. If any member shall become intoxication, and accident occur, 
or death attack him in spirit condition, the society shall not be 
responsible for such person. 

3. We shall assistance the sick, and furnish Doctor, and in case 
any member become mortality, furnish all necessary purposes for 
the funeral. 


I had a Bible class of thirty young men. One of 
these had received a good education, and possessed 
an unusual degree of mental culture. He went into 
business in Buffalo and fell into bad company. From 
Buffalo he went to Chicago, only to pursue. the same 
downward course. All this while the prayers of his 
mother and the missionaries followed him until the 
Lord directed his steps home to the Reservation for a 
vacation. He was very hard and even bitter toward 
all Christians. He was impelled to come into the old 
Bible class every Sabbath, where he would combat 


140 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


every religious truth uttered, in order to destroy its 
force upon the minds of others. He spoke freely of 
his own disbelief in the Bible and everything of the 
kind, quoting from infidel authors. A position was 
offered him in New York. He came to the Mission 
House and told me this. 

‘¢ Tt will be your ruin,” said I. 

‘¢ Why?” he asked indignantly. 

‘* My boy, you are like a poor boat out on the rest- 
less ocean with no compass or rudder. You will be 
drifted about just as your master, the devil, shall 
choose.” 

He started to his feet, his eyes flashing. ‘* You 
want me to be a Christian,” said hé. ‘*How can I 
be a Christian when I believe nothing of your re- 
ligion? I will not deceive you. I have not a par- 
ticle of feeling. JI could die calmly this moment. It 
would be mockery to accept a Saviour of whom L 
feel no need — in whom I do not believe even intel- 
lectually.” 

My heart went out in great pity as I looked at him, 
but it was time for our weekly missionary meeting, 
held in the Mission Home. Mrs. Wright was calling 
me even then. As I turned to leave him I said : — 

‘You are going away. I shall not have another 
opportunity to ask a favor of you. Grant me this 


one to-night. Go into the prayer meeting with me.” 


BY. THE WAY. 141 


He laughed and exclaimed, ‘‘ What a ridiculous 
idea !” 

‘¢ Never mind,” said I; ‘* go with me to-night.” 

‘¢ Well, just to please you, I will do it,” said he. 

Great was the surprise of the missionary band to 
see the young infidel in that sacred spot. He took a 
chair, tipped it back against the wall, and prepared to 
be an amused spectator. I was so overwhelmed with 
the sense of his condition that I knelt immediately 
and prayed for a young friend who boasted of his 
want of feeling, and I entreated the Lord to strike 
conviction to that heart even then. Others followed 
in the same strain until the poor young man could 
hold up his head no longer, but buried his face in 
his hands. 

As soon as the meeting was over he vanished. I saw 
no more of him for several days, and supposed he had 
gone to New York. One afternoon he appeared at the 
Mission House and said, ‘*‘I want to see you alone.” 

His face was haggard, his eyes wild, as though 
sleep had been a stranger to them. He walked back 
and forth a few times, trying to control his voice, 
and finally said :— 

‘¢7] have had no peace in my mind since the night 
of the prayer meeting; no peace night or day. I 
cannot sleep. Tell me how you found the Saviour, 


for I must find him or lose my reason.” 


142 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Oh, the mighty power of the Holy Spirit to con- 
vict a stony heart! I pointed him to Jesus as well as 
I could. 

‘¢ Oh, yes,” he said, as I told the story of my own 
conversion ; ‘‘it was easy for you to come to Jesus ; 
but you never knew sin as I have.” 

‘¢ But, my boy, he saves the chief of sinners.” I 
then read the passage proving that although his sins 
were as scarlet they could be white like snow. 

‘¢ But you don’t know,” said he, ‘‘ to what depths 
of sin I went in Buffalo and Chicago. I drank and I 
gambled. Oh, I have been a terrible sinner ! ”” 

‘¢ Yet there is mercy for you,” I said, as I con- 
tinued giving him messages from God’s own Word, 
knowing well that this was too solemn an occasion to 
use words of myown. At last he knelt with me and 
surrendered all to Christ. ‘* My heart, my hands, my 
feet, my all, just as I am,” he cried, and found peace 
in believing. Great joy came to him then. The great 
love of Christ seemed wonderful to him. 

‘¢ Why have I waited so long,” he exclaimed, ‘‘ so 
long, and wasted all these years, when they might have 
been given to Jesus?”’ He was only twenty-one years 
of age. 

That night when he went home his mother had 
retired and was asleep. He burst into her room and 


roused her with these words : — 


aa 


BY THE WAY. 145 

‘¢Q mother, mother, I have found the Savionr!” 

What sweeter sound could have greeted the ears of 
the praying mother? He knelt by her bed, she threw 
her arms about him, and together they talked and 
prayed until the day dawned. When he told me of 
this afterward he said : — 

‘¢T saw a look in my dear mother’s tired eyes the 
next morning that I never saw there before.” 

The next Monday evening he attended our prayer 
meeting at the Mission, and here in broken accents 
confessed that conviction entered his soul even while 
we were in prayer. 


It occurred to the missionaries that it might promote 
good fellowship between the Indian and white man to 
hold a social picnic together. Invitations were sent 
to prominent people in Buffalo and other cities to 
become the guests of the Indians upon this occasion. 
The president of the day was Henry Two-Guns, a 
stepson of Red Jacket; the vice-president, Dr. Peter 
Wilson ; the marshal, Nicholson H. Parker, brother of 
General Ely Parker. The brass bands were entirely 
composed of Indians. 

Nathaniel Thayer Strong, known to the Indians 
as ‘‘Chief Honondeuh,” was elected orator. As he 
had a fine command of English he was asked to speak 
in that language. Words are inadequate to describe 


144 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


the condition of mind with which we listened to the 


following outburst addressed to our guests : — 


Ladies and gentlemen: In some respects the pres- 
ent occasion is extraordinary. Never before did the 
white man with his women and children meet the red 
man with his women and children in a social picnic. 
It is an occasion to make our hearts glad, and I 
would like for a moment to present the past condition 
and relationships of the two nations in contrast with 
the present. 

As we all know, the red men were the first occupants 
of this soil. In 1647 the Confederacy of the Six 
Nations of the Long House was able to raise thirty 
thousand warriors. War and the sports of the chase 
were the pursuits of the red man. Their clothing 
was made of the skins of the animals they killed in 
the chase; their food was the flesh of wild animals; 
the corn and beans and squashes were raised by the 
women, and the labor of the lodge was all performed 
by them. The possessions of the Iroquois had ex- 
tended far to the south and west, and their name was 
a terror among all the surrounding nations. They 
roamed from river to river and from valley to plain 
in pursuit of the buffalo, the bear, and the elk; they 
darted across our lakes and rivers in their light canoes 
to find the beaver and the otter and to take their furs. 


BY THE WAY. 145 


At appointed seasons they returned to the council 
fires of the Six Nations for the transaction of public 
business, and to keep the annual feasts. More than 
a hundred years afterward (in 1776) we find them 
greatly reduced in numbers, only about twelve thou- 
sand, though their customs are the same. 

Ladies and gentlemen, let us look at the white man 
in the same periods. In 1647 they had only three 
hundred all told who were capable of bearing arms. 
They had a system of government and written laws. 
Their religion was founded upon the Bible; they 
knew the value and use of money; they knew that 
land was better than money, and they made every 
effort to obtain it. The white man bought it of his 
red brother and paid him little or nothing. He 
bought our furs too at his own price. 

In 1776 the white man numbers two hundred thou- 
sand. Forests have fallen before the woodsmen; the 
game has retreated until both have nearly disappeared. 
The land of the red man became cultivated. The 
white man built cities, towns, villages; he built 
churches, colleges, academies, and common schools. 

You have made canals and railroads, and your 
electric telegraph sends the news with the speed of 
thought. This is wonderful. The red man cannot 
comprehend it. Your commerce extends over the 


world. Your ships are on every sea; your steamers 


146 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


are on every river. In two hundred years your 
population has increased from six thousand to three 
millions. 

Allow me-to ask what price did the red man receive 
for all this broad domain? Allow me to read you a 
public document : — 

‘‘ By these presents we do for ourselves and our 
successors, ratify, confirm, grant, and submit unto 
our most sovereign lord, King George, by the grace 
of God King of Great Britain, defender of the faith, 
all the land lying between ” — here follows a description 
of the premises, including lakes, rivers, etc., of our 
land — never paying a cent for it! 

Ladies and gentlemen, you see from this that your 
forefathers wronged the red man, and took advantage 
of his ignorance. The red man has a long history 
of wrongs and grievances ; though unrecorded by the 
hand of man they are written in the great Book of 
Remembrance kept by the Great Spirit, and he will 
inquire into this at your hands by-and-by, and he 
will do justice to his red children. « 

Ladies and gentlemen, I appeal to you whether we 
are not entitled to your sympathy, whether we have 
not claims upon your assistance, while we try to raise 
ourselves from the condition in which ignorance and 
prejudice have sunk our nation. The red man is 


aware of his condition — he feels it deeply —he feels 


BY THE WAY. 147 


an alien from the Commonwealth. There are no 
monuments to commemorate the deeds of our fore- 
fathers, but there are the mighty rivers and the 
eternal hills which we have named. 

Ladies and gentlemen, the Six Nations of the Iro- 
quois are now represented before you. The president 
of the day is a Seneca, the vice-president on his right 
is a Cayuga, and on the left you see an Onondaga. 
In this audience are representatives of the Mohawk 
and the Oneida. One of your own poets has said 
that music hath charms to soothe the savage breast. 
Here is a band of musicians delighting us with their 
sweet strains, composed entirely of the descendants 
of Senecas and Tuscaroras; and I doubt not they 
have gratified even civilized ears. 

Ladies and gentlemen, you perceive we are changed. 
We have schools and books and churches, and are 
fast adopting the customs of white men. For these 
improvements we are indebted to Mr. and Mrs. 
Wright and other missionaries of the American 
Board.» Great is our debt of gratitude to these per- 
severing and devoted men and women. If you will 
but extend to us the right hand of fellowship, we 
shall abundantly reward your efforts, and you will 
at least see among us a state of cultivation and 
refinement. The missionaries have not made a great 
noise by blowing of the trumpet, but quietly and 


148 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


peaceably they have gone about among us doing 
good, and may they live to see fulfilled their most 
cherished hopes, and answered their fervent prayers ! 


SENECA INDIAN NAMES. 


HALFTOWN. TWENTY-CANOES. SILVERHEELS. 
WHEELBARROW. CORNPLANTER. LONGFINGER. 
BLUE SKY. BLACK SNAKE. SUNDOWN. 
DESTROYTOWN. TALLCHIEF. BIG KETTLE. 
RED JACKET. PORCUPINE. CORNFIELD. 
GREYBEARD. YELLOW BLANKET. GREEN BLANKET. 
STEEP ROCK. FisH Hook. DEER Foor. 


CASTILE SOAP. Bia TREE. GHASTLY DARKNESS. 


IT must be acknowleged that much of the romance of the ancient 
Indian character has passed away. The wigwam of so much his- 
toric interest has vanished, and the Indian has become reconciled 
to a sheltering roof. They used to say: — 

‘Tt is a shame to cover the top of our wigwam so that the Good 
Ruler cannot look down upon his children in their home life.” 

For the same reason the top of the head was never covered. 
“Tt is a shame,” said they, ‘‘to conceal the thoughts passing 
through the brain from the Good Ruler who is our Great Father.” 

The time-renowned skins and fur are replaced by broadcloth and 
calico. Venison is supplanted by beef and pork. Formerly a hoe 
in the hand of an Indian brave was a terrible disgrace; now a hoe 
in the hand of an Indian woman is quite unfashionable. 


~~ 


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XII. 
AMONG THE PAGANS. 


HUS far we have followed Mrs. Wright in her 

everyday life among the Christian Indians. 

Not all, however, who belonged to the ‘‘ Christian 

party ” were believers in Christ. Many who called 

themselves Christians had simply ceased to believe in 

paganism through having lost faith in Handsome 
Lake, the pagan prophet. 

About one third of this Indian nation, how- 
ever, still held to the old pagan belief. These 
lived in settlements by themselves apart from the 
missionaries and Christian Indians, and faithfully 
observed the old rites, including all the feasts and 
dances. Many of these rites are observed there to 
this day. The dance house was located at New- 
town, the stronghold of paganism. The people of 
this settlement were so prejudiced against Chris- 
tianity that they resisted every effort to win them to 
the Jesus Way. The pagan leaders declared that 
the Name should never be spoken there. Two 
men were required to locate their cabins on each 
side of the entrance to this settlement, and turn 

151 


152 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


back any one who came to bring the white man’s 
religion. 

Mrs. Wright’s heart yearned with unspeakable 
anxiety over these souls who thus condemned them- 
selves to the darkness of ignorance and pagan super- 
stition. They must be reached. But how? Many 
plans were discussed, and much earnest prayer offered 
that a way might be opened —and it was opened, 
quite unexpectedly, and not in the least according to 
our planning. 

While on a trip home to Boston I attended the 
Sunday-school in West Newton, then under the care of 
Mr. B. F. Whittemore. The children had decided to 
purchase a new organ, and were about to consign a 
small melodeon to the cellar of the church. I asked 
for it to use among the Indians. The request was 
cheerfully granted, and soon after I returned to the 
Reservation with my prize. 

One Sabbath afternoon Mrs. Wright and I started 
with the old Mission horse and wagon for Newtown, 
the stronghold of paganism. In the back of the 
wagon was the little melodeon given by the Sunday- 
school children. We drove three miles and ascended 
the long steep hill to the pagan settlement. The men 
at the top came out and said : — 

‘¢ You cannot come here. We do not wish to hear 
anything about your Jesus Way.” 


AMONG THE PAGANS. Toa 


As we turned to go down the hill, the men noticed 
the box in the back of our wagon and their curiosity 
was excited. This was what we had anticipated, for 
although he holds himself under such perfect con- 
trol, the Indian has as much curiosity as the white 
man. 

‘¢ What is in that box?” said one of them. 

‘¢ That is a most wonderful box,” I replied. ‘* You 
never saw so wonderful a box.” | 

‘¢ Open it,” said he, ‘‘ and let us look into it.” 

I said, ‘¢ I will if you will let us pass by and go to 
the dance house.” 

‘¢ We cannot let you do that,” said he with a dark 
look. 

‘¢ Then we must go home,” I said. 

‘¢ But you will open the box first.” 

‘* No,” said I, ‘* I cannot open the box here. I will 
open the box only at the dance house.” 

‘¢ Wait!” he said, and ran to the dance house and 
consulted the pagan leaders. 

‘¢ They have,” said he, ‘‘ in their wagon a wonder- 
ful box which they will not open unless permitted to 
pass in and come to the dance house.” | 

After long consultation the pagan chiefs decided to 
let us come, that the wonderful box might be opened 
before all. the people there assembled. And so the 
offering of the Sunday-school children opened the way 


154 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


for us to reach these pagans. We immediately took 
the instrument from the wagon and set it up on the 
eround. I had brought a stool with me and sat down 
and began to play. ‘They had never heard such sounds 
before. Indians are naturally fond of music and they 
were captivated by the sweet tones of this little instru- 
ment. Mrs. Wright and I, hoping by means of the 
musical missionary to reach them, had prepared some 
Indian hymns which contained the simple truths of 
the gospel. We sang one of these hymns. They 
listened in breathless silence, and shouted, ‘* The 
wonderful box speaks! It speaks! Let it speak 
again!” Wesang another hymn. ‘They cried, ‘‘Ah- 
soh! ah-soh!” (Another! another!) After a while 
we closed the melodeon, put it into the wagon, 
and started for home. They followed us in crowds, 
crying, — 

‘* Will you come again, and bring the wonderful 
box, and sing to us?” 

We said, ‘‘ Yes; we will come next Sunday.” 

What were these pagans doing when we passed the 
guard and came to the dance house? Perhaps I 
should say here that the pagan dance house is a 
building about forty feet long by thirty feet wide. 
There is an immense fireplace at each end. Seats 
are arranged around the sides, one tier above an- 


other. The house will accommodate about four 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 155 


hundred people. ‘The only furniture upon the floor of 
the house is a long low bench. When about to have 
a dance the people arrange themselves upon these 
tiers of seats. When the house is full a man comes 
in with an Indian drum, seats himself upon the low 
bench in the center of the hall, and begins to beat 
the drum. Soon another man comes in, with a turtle- 
shell rattle. The turtle is a sacred animal with these 
Indians, and always used in their religious festivities. 
The animal is killed, the legs cut off, the inside re- 
moved, and the shell filled with pebbles; the neck is 
drawn out and tightly wound with catgut, furnishing 
the handle of the instrument. While the first man 
beats the drum, the second man shakes the turtle-shell 
rattle, and a third man joins them with a squash 
rattle. ‘Three men now take their places beside these, 
who commence to sing the weird Indian songs. This 
Indian orchestra now being complete, the Indian 
maidens come from the sides and form a line around 
them and commence to dance to the measured and 
monotonous beat of the Indian drum, the shaking of 
the rattles, and the sudden shrieks of the singers. It 
is difficult to describe the step of this dance. They 
do not lift their feet from the floor, but shove them 
with a certain peculiar movement in perfect time to 
the music. When this circle is complete the mothers 


descend from the seats at the side and form a second 


156 LIFE AMONG THE InOQUOIS. 


ring, dancing around the first with the same peculiar 
movement. When that line is complete the fathers 
form a third circle with the same movement. The 
fourth circle is now formed by the young warriors, 
who, with wild shrieks, and tomahawks brandished in 
the air, leap around the other three circles. At this 
time it becomes very exciting and those who are left 
upon the benches shout with delight. The performers 
are dressed in gala attire, plentifully ornamented with 
beads, brooches, and feathers. The young warriors 
have painted their faces. The scene is exciting and 
frightful to a stranger. Outside upon the ground 
there are various games in progress, and here and 
there the Indian kettle in which their favorite soup 
is being prepared for the feast hangs over the 
fire. 

The next Sabbath we went again to this pagan 
settlement, and received a warm welcome, with eager 
requests to open the wonderful box and sing. This 
we did for several Sabbaths, always singing the 
simple truths of the gospel. Had we spoken one 


? 


word about the ‘‘ Jesus Way,” we should have been 
obliged to leave at once. But we were only too 
glad to be permitted to sing the glad tidings to this 
people. 

The Missionary Board had built a schoolhouse near 


this settlement with the hope that the people would 


ye? 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 157 


allow their children to go to school, but so far its very 
existence had been ignored. 

One Sabbath, after singing several hymns, we said: 
‘¢ Next time we shall go to the schoolhouse over there 
in the woods.” 

They were very indignant, and with angry faces 
declared that we must not go, because they could not 
follow us there. 

We said, ‘* We shall go there next Sabbath with the 
wonderful box, and you can do as you please about 
following us.” 

So on the next Sabbath, when they ran to greet us 
as we ascended the hill, we kept on our way toward 
the schoolhouse. They shouted to us to stop there by 
the dance house, but we shook our heads and passed 
on. This was more than they could bear, and they 
followed us in crowds to the schoolhouse, packed it 
full, and stood upon the outside peering in at the low 
windows. Again we sang the hymns. Mrs. Wright 
said : — ! 

‘¢ Tt is now time to hold meetings with these people, 
and I will open this one with prayer.” 

I said, ‘‘ You do not know what will happen if you 
do this.” 

She answered quietly, ‘‘ God will take care of us.” 

She knelt in prayer. When these people saw that 
woman on her knees, there was a strange hush for a 


158 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


moment, and then in a body they started for the door ; 
those who could not get out by the door quickly leaped 
through the windows, and when she arose from her 
knees we were alone. ‘There was no one to be seen 
in any direction. I put my fingers upon the keys of 
the little instrument, and as soon as the sounds floated 
out upon the air they rushed in, and again filled the 
house. It was a moving audience that we had for 
several Sabbaths. If we did anything but sing they 
left us, but the wonderful little box could always 
bring them back again. | 

At last one Sabbath Mrs. Wright said, ‘*‘ Would you 
like to hear the story of how this earth was made?” 

‘¢'Yes, yes!” they shouted. 

Then she told them the story as given in Genesis. 
She spoke of the earth as being round. Mr. Corn- 
planter arose, and said in Indian : — 

‘¢Stop! You have made a great mistake. This 
earth is flat and rests upon the back of the great 
sacred Turtle. How could he hold it if it was round? 
It would certainly roll off. I should suppose,” he 
continued, ‘‘that one need only look from _ these 
windows to know that this earth is flat.” 

She did not contradict him but went on with the 
story. She spoke of the great and good God as 
creating all things. Mr. Longfinger arose and said: 

‘¢ Stop! stop!” 


Ny aN 
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tf é : ae 
TW Nea! ww 
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VERTIS oad 


THE MEDICINE DANCER. 


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AMONG THE PAGANS. Lay 


‘¢ What is it, brother? ” said she. 

‘¢ You have insulted Ha-wen-ni-yu, the Good Ruler.” 

‘¢ How have I insulted him?” asked she calmly. 

‘¢'You say he made all things. He never made 
anything evil that would hurt his children. He never 
made bad people, or the cruel animals that would 
destroy us, or the poisonous herbs that would kill us. 
Ha-wen-ni-yu made only good people, the beautiful 
trees and flowers, and the herbs that we use when we 
are sick, and the animals that are useful to us.” 

‘Well, Longfinger,” said Mrs. Wright, ‘‘ who did 
make all these things that we do not like?” 

‘¢' The Evil-Minded, his brother, made them,” said 
the man. 

The next Sunday, when we came to the school- 
house, after the usual songs the people asked for 
_ another story. Mrs. Wright resolved then and there 
to tell them the story of Christ. But knowing the 
consequences if they realized this, she used no names 
at the beginning. She told the story of a beautiful 
babe, who was born in an Oriental country. She 
described the surroundings. She told them about the 
wicked king, the shepherds, the wise men, and the 
wonderful star. She told them about the childhood 
of Christ; his three years of loving service for the 
people ; how he healed the sick, made the blind to see, 
the lame to walk, the deaf to hear, and at last she told 


60 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


of his cruel death and that he was the Son of God. 
They listened intently. After she sat down old Sil- 
verheels arose and said : — 

‘¢ That is a story of great interest, but it is a shame 
that the white man should have murdered a son of the 
Good Ruler, Ha-wen-ni-yu. It is a dreadful thing. 
I am glad that we Indians had nothing to do with it. 
It is none of our affair. We would not have killed 
him; we would have treated him well. The white 
men who killed the son of Ha-wen-ni-yu ought to be 
terribly punished. The Great Ruler will punish them. 
He will be revenged onthem. You must make amends 
for this great crime yourselves.” 

Then she told them that this was the Christ of 
the Indians too, of whom we had sung to them these 
many Sabbaths. ‘The leaders were very angry, and 
said :— 

‘< You shall never come here again.” 

The young people, who had been growing more 
and more attached to us, said, ‘‘They shall come 
here again. We want to hear more about this Jesus 
Way.” 

The leaders said, ‘‘ If they come here again, we will 
_ throw them from the top of the cliff upon the rocks in 
the river below.” 

The young people said, ‘‘ You shall not harm them, 
for we will protect them,” 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 161 


This discussion grew more and more exciting, re- 
sulting in long speeches on both sides, which kept 
us in that house until two o’clock in the morning. 
Neither of us said one word through the whole of it. 
I sat at the melodeon and Mrs. Wright by my side. 
Although we realized our danger, we were enabled 
to maintain a calm exterior. 

When at last the meeting broke up the young men 
went out with us, and stood about our wagon until 
we were ready to start. We began to dread the 
long, dark, dangerous way home through the woods, 
through mud holes, over broken bridges, through 
streams which we had to ford. We need not have 
trembled, for the angel of the Lord was even then 
encamped round about us to protect us from evil. 
Twelve of these young Indian pagans had secured 
pitch-pine torches and were making preparations to go 
with us. 

A picture for an artist! Two lone women, the old 
Mission horses and wagon, the dense forest on either 
side, the young Indians in a variety of indescribable 
costumes, with their long hair streaming in the wind, 
running before, behind, and on either side, holding 
high the torches and singing the Christian songs 
taught them by us. They placed themselves about 
us as we started and followed us all the way home, 


giving us their protection and the light of the torches, 


162 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


From that time until there was no more danger this 
bodyguard with their pine torches always ran beside 
us on our way home, when we had held an evening 
meeting in the pagan settlement. 

At Christmas time we had the audacity and faith to 
ask for the use of the pagan dance house in which 
to hold a Christmas festival. This produced the 
most profound excitement. The leaders declared that 
those sacred walls should never be so disgraced. ‘The 
young men said we should be admitted. The old men 
would not give up the key to the house. The young 
men took it by force, and, following our directions, 
secured two large hemlock trees and placed them in 
each end of the house, and invited us to fill them and 
defended us while doing it. 

Boston friends sent me at that time two hundred 
dollars in money, and several boxes of valuable arti- 
cles for this occasion. Every pagan of the settle- 
ment was remembered with some useful present. 
With a part of the money we bought provisions and 
gave them a great dinner. We noticed that as soon 
as the doors of the dance house were thrown open to 
the people, the angry leaders were ready to enter with 
the rest and to accept the valuable gifts which we had 
prepared for them. ‘There was only one moment of 
friction during the day, and that was when a young 
clergyman whom we had inyited to come insisted 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 163 


upon offering prayer. We knew well how hard it 
would be for these pagan leaders to endure this, and 
so we interfered and begged the good man to allow us 
to sing a prayer, which was perfectly satisfactory to 
all parties. 

Of course the little melodeon, which had been the 
means of opening the door to this great opportunity, 
was placed in the center of the hall, and by the grate- 
ful young people, who loved it as a human being, 
was gorgeously decorated with hemlock boughs and 
a profusion of red berries. 

This festival gave us great power in that com- 
munity, and although the leaders declined to enter 
the Jesus Way, their bitter opposition to us was much 
modified. 


Through the blessed offering of the Sunday-school 
children, the little melodeon, we were able to enter 
another pagan neighborhood called, because of a di- 
lapidated plank road, the Plank Road neighborhood. 
Here we ventured to take possession of an empty log 
house, where we invited the people to meet us every 
Thursday evening and hear about the ‘‘ Shining Jesus 
Way.” Of course they came at first simply to see 
the wonderful box and to hear the music; but we 
asked that through this means they might receive 
light. | 


164 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


One Thursday evening the weather was intensely 
cold and the snow so deep that our courage nearly 
failed us; but the thought of those poor, benighted 
ones impelled us to go forward in the work ; and so the 
two steady missionary horses, Roxana and Ruhama, — 
named for two of Mrs. Stowe’s characters who went 
about doing good, — were attached to the sleigh and 
brought to the door. The missionary sleigh was 
simply a long box upon runners. This box was well 
filled with straw, upon which we sat, because less ex- 
posed to the cold than upon boards laid across the 
top. ‘The melodeon was first placed carefully in the 
sleigh; then came our missionary bag, our companion 
on all excursions. This bag contained straps, bits 
of rope, twine, hammer and nails, a gimlet, a buggy 
wrench, bread, chalk, medicine, a teaspoon, Indian 
hymn books and Indian Testaments, matches and 
candles, lint and linen bandages, adhesive plaster, 
bright picture papers, a tin horn, cookies and sugar- 
plums to keep the babies quiet while we talked with 
the mothers. This seems a strange medley, but in 
many places, far from human habitations, our bag 
was invaluable. 

Upon this particular Thursday evening, being fully 
equipped as I have described, we started for our log 
house in the woods. It was a terrible night for the 
horses on account of the icy roads. We were really 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 165 


suffering from the cold when we drove up to the 
house. 

*¢ No light!” said I. 

‘¢ Perhaps,” said Mrs. Wright, ‘‘ Castile has no oil. 
I have brought a small can with me and we will fill 
the lamp.” 

Castile Soap was the name of the Indian who pre- 
tended to take care of our house and have it lighted 
and warm for us every Thursday. I use the word 
pretended significantly for, alas! Castile had failed us 
this time, as many a time before. After securing our 
horses we were obliged to climb a rail fence and jump 
into the snow upon the other side, which was not 
pleasant. We reached the door, shivering uncomfort- 
ably ; it was fastened. Our missionary bag yielded a 
key. Once within the house you might suppose our 
troubles at an end. Far from it. There was not a 
dry chip upon the premises with which to kindle a fire. 
Outside under the snow we found a few sticks of 
green wood. ‘These we placed in the stove and by 
pouring oil over them succeeded in forcing a blaze — 
an example not to be followed under ordinary circum- 
stances. Having no. beil, we resorted, as usual, to 
our powerful tin horn, which made the woods resound 
with its shrill note, and from various directions our 
pagan friends assembled. To our great surprise Logan 


came with them. Now Logan was a powerful chief 


166 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


among the pagans, and had been decidedly opposed 
to us. The fierce scowl and flash of his eye boded 
no good. Mrs. Wright and I inwardly asked for 
heavenly guidance and proceeded with the meeting. 
We sang and prayed and talked. Finally Chief 
Logan arose. I wish I could describe this man, but 
such a face as his beggars description. You might 
imagine him, scalping knife in hand, looking upon 
his victim as he looked upon us that night. 

‘You white women!” said he, ‘* you who come 
here and disturb us in the religion of our fathers, I 
wish you would let us alone.” This was said with 
great emphasis. ‘*I suppose you are good enough in 
your way. You visit the sick and you take care of 
the poor. All that is well enough. But you break up 
our dances. I wish you would let us alone! We like 
your singing, but we don’t want your meetings. We 
do not like your praying and talking. Now I am 
resolved what to do. You want these children to go 
to school. If you do not stop your meetings, these 
children shall never go to school. Now, there is a 
bargain. Stop your meetings, and we will let these 
children go to school; go on with your meetings and 
these children will never know anything and you will 
be to blame.” 

This logic caused a smile to quiver upon my lips, 
but, noting an additional touch of fierceness in his 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 167 


manner, and a quick flash of the eye, I subsided 
into an attitude of grave attention. 

‘¢ Now,” continued Logan, ‘‘ I have resolved that if 
you keep on coming here with your meetings” (always 
alluding to our meetings as to some commodity taken 
with us or left, at pleasure), ‘‘ I will turn your horses’ 
heads home the very next time you come to the top of. 
that hill out there. J shall do it!” (Great emphasis.) 
Do you hear?” he shouted. 

‘¢ Yes, brother,’ we said calmly. We sang a hymn 
as though nothing had happened, appointed another 
meeting there, and passed out without a word. 

The next Thursday evening, as we were slowly 
climbing that same steep hill, whom should we find 
standing at the top but Logan. 

‘¢ Where are you going?” said he. 

*¢’To hold our usual meeting, Logan.” 

He took our horses by the bridles; we were quite 
helpless as to human aid, but we had learned that we 
could depend upon the Master whom we served for 
protection. The face of our deluded opponent was 
very dark, and he seemed possessed by a demon. 
The road where he stopped us was very narrow. Had 
he attempted to turn us there the consequences would 
have been serious. Suddenly Logan let go the 
bridles, and plunging down the embankment at our 
side, disappeared. Why had he left us? Was it to 


168 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


bring others to assist him in his wicked designs? 
‘‘Q ye of little faith, wherefore will ye doubt?” 
We held the meeting with nothing to molest us. Late 
in the evening we drove home, passing the place of 
our encounter with some dread lest evil awaited us 
there, for we were alone, two defenseless women. 
We sang hymns of praise on our way, and late at night 
arrived safe at home. But we never knew why there 
came such a sudden change into the mind of our enemy 
at that moment. Again we said, as we had said many 
a time before, ‘‘ The angel of the Lord encampeth 
round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.” 

Chief Logan had a cousin bearing the illustrious 
name of George Washington. This man quarreled 
with his wife about some trifle, and without further 
ceremony drove her from the home where for so many 
years she had boiled his corn and cooked his venison. 
An angry pagan prides himself upon a stony heart. 
Appeals fail to move him. She went forth sadly and 
feebly. She did not know that she was looking upon 
her home for the last time. She did not know that 
through this great sorrow the Saviour whom she had 
rejected so many years was bringing her to himself. 
She went to the house of Logan, and with a great 
pain in her heart longed for death. Little did this 
stricken woman expect to meet her Lord in the house 
of this gospel hater. 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 169 


One day, not long after our unpleasant encounter 
with Logan in the woods, we heard a feeble knock at 
the Mission door. Upon opening, these words greeted 
us in a trembling voice : — 

‘¢Pity me! Do not thrust me aside. Let me lean 
upon you for [ am in trouble.” 

The face of the young girl was very sad as she 
stood at the Mission door. She was the only daughter 
of George Washington, who had driven his sick wife 
from her home. The trembling voice and haggard 
face of the girl contrasted strangely with her pic- 
turesque dancing costume, heavily ornamented with 
silver brooches and beads. ‘The poor child had been 
dancing at a feast all night. 

‘*T am afraid,” she said, ‘‘ that my mother is 
dying. My father will not see her. She wants you.” » 

The sick woman was miles away, the roads in a 
wretched condition, but as soon as possible we were 
at her side. 

‘¢My mind is in great agony,’ said the poor 
creature with difficulty. ‘*Can you help me? I have 
always been a pagan, but sometimes I have secretly 
attended your meetings. I have heard you sing and 
pray and tell about that wonderful Being who came to 
take away sin. The last time I was there you taught 
us how to say these words in our own language, 
‘Christ died for all.’ ‘The blood of Jesus Christ 


170 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


cleanseth us from all sin.’ ‘God so loved the world 
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever be- 
lieveth in him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life.’ 

‘¢ Now in my trouble,” she continued, ‘‘ these words 
are ever before me, but I am afraid of God. I want 
to hide. I am in danger. My mind is very dark. 
Will you tell me more?” 

We told her the story of Jesus in her own lan- 
guage, as to a little child. When we finished there 
was a new light in those troubled eyes and_ she 
said : — 

‘¢] believe; I need him; I take him! I need 
him more than any other sinner in the whole world.” 

She closed her eyes and seemed to be taking into her 
-soul the message of forgiveness and release from the 
burden of sin. ‘There was silence in the little room 
as we lifted our hearts to God that this benighted 
mind might at the eleventh hour receive the illumi- 
nation of the Holy Spirit. At last she opened her 
eyes, from which shone a new light, the light of 
peace. 

‘¢] shall die soon,” she said. ‘‘I beseech you, 
promise me that you will take my body away from this 
place, and give it a Christian burial. I do not wish 
any pagan ceremonies over me.” She asked us to 


sing a hymn, which translated reads thus : — 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 171 


Jesus, I come to thee, pity me! pity me! 
I am a poor sinner, oh, pity me! 

As thou art merciful, 

Thrust not aside my soul; 

Pity me, for I am a poor sinner. 


Only thy precious blood 

Is able to give me relief. 
According to thy mercy, 
According to thy lovingkindness 
Wash me in thy blood. 

I am a poor sinner, 

But thou art able to save me. 


About half an hour after we left the house Logan 
came in. He was told of our visit, of the singing, 
talking, and praying. He was told of Mrs. Washing- 
ton’s request as to a Christian burial. The man was 
furious. He cursed us again and again. He walked 
back and forth, threatening vengeance. He called 
upon the Evil-Minded to bring upon our heads 
every curse that the ‘‘ House of Torment” could 
furnish. 

‘¢ What!” said he, *‘ praying in my house? These 
walls have never known a stain like that before.” He 
cursed his pretty wife, who shrank from him in fear. 
He cursed even the sick woman. 

‘¢Tf it had not been for you,” he said, ‘‘ this would 
not have happened. A Christian burial indeed! You 
will be buried as I say.. If they lay a finger on your 
dead body, they will arouse an Indian tempest such as 


they never dreamed of.” 


Viz LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


The sick one was too much terrified to speak. A 
pagan woman came to the bedside. 

‘¢ What are you thinking of?” said she. ‘* Don’t 
you know your father and your mother and all your 
forefathers had a pagan burial? Are you so heartless 
as to disgrace their dust in this way? Don’t you 
want to go to the ‘Happy Home beyond the Setting 
Sun,’ where they are? Oh, how lonesome you will be 
among the white folks, and your own relations away 
off where you cannot reach them!” 

The dancing girl threw herself beside her mother 
and begged her not to leave her all alone in this world 
and the next too. The persecuted one tried to speak, 
but in the exhaustion caused by these trying scenes 
she could only murmur the words of the hymn, 
‘* Jesus, I come to thee, pity me!” 

The next morning we went again to the house of 
Logan, quite unconscious of the storm we had caused 
the day before. A frightened look upon the face 
of the young wife enlightened us. Chief Logan was 
there, but simply ignored our presence. His wife 
dared not ask us to sit down. We quietly ministered 
to the wants of the sick one. She whispered : — 

‘¢Be cautious; the man who hates you and your 
religion is here.” 

Logan was suddenly called from the room. Then 
the women told us all. 


AMONG THE PAGANS. Vis 


‘¢ Will Jesus indeed receive my soul if I am 
buried with pagan ceremonies?” asked the dying 
woman. 

‘s Do you cast yourself entirely upon him?” 

‘¢Yes, yes!” she exclaimed. ‘I believe I do.” 

‘¢Then he accepts you. He knows your desire; 
you may tell him all about it. You may talk with 
him all the time in your mind and he hears you. 
These pagans refuse to answer your prayer about 
your body. Jesus hears and answers your prayer 
about your soul, and that is safe.” 

She was quite satisfied. Again we sang and prayed 
with her and repeated the sweet promises of Jesus. 
We told her about heaven, expecting every moment to 
be confronted by Logan; but the Lord in mercy held 
him back that this trembling disciple might be com- 
forted. And very soon her spirit took its flight to 
that land where there shall be no more night, for the 


glory of God and of the Lamb is the light thereof. 


We were powerless to carry out her wishes, and she 
received a pagan burial. 

Several months later some mysterious impulse 
moved Chief Logan to appear at the Mission break- 
fast table one morning and utter these words : — 

‘¢T have got through fighting you. You may go on 
with your meetings if you will. I shall never oppose 
you again.” 


174 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Overcome by surprise we hardly answered him; but 
he kept his word. He did not attend the meetings 
himself, but he permitted others to do so without 
persecution. 

One lovely spring morning a messenger came for us 
to go as quickly as possible to Logan. He was near 
death and greatly desired to see us. Although we 
went with all possible haste, death entered this dwell- 
ing before us. ‘Those who were with him told us that 
he watched for us with great anxiety to the last. He 
wanted to hear more of the ‘‘ Shining Jesus Way.” 
The words of Christ which he heard during that one 
evening when he came to silence us had followed him 
from that day until the day of his death. 


John Hudson, a leader among the pagans, was 
awakened to search after the real truth. He was a 
man of great natural ability; like Paul he was very 
zealous in preaching and teaching his false doctrine. 
He was one of our bitter opposers, but at one time 
was induced to listen to us as we talked most 
earnestly to him of Christ, his life, his sufferings, 
his death on the cross. With great emphasis he 
replied : — 

‘¢T do believe in Ha-wen-ni-yu — the Great Ruler ; 
I pray to him every day; but it has never been 
revealed to me that Ha-wen-ni-yu has a son, and I 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 175 
can never, never pray to him or believe in him whom 
you call his Son, Jesus Christ.” 

But the Spirit of God was at work upon this man’s 
heart, and gradually light broke in upon his darkened 
mind. Finally he came into one of our meetings 
among the pagans and told his feelings; but that 
which we longed to hear most from his lips, his faith 
in Christ as his Saviour, we heard not. With a proud, 
defiant manner he stood there and declared that he 
was ready now to defend the Christian party and 
embrace the Christian religion. 

Nothing is impossible with God, and at last in 
answer to much earnest prayer among the missionaries 
and Indian brethren of the church, the truth in all its 
radiance shone clearly into the benighted mind of 
John Hudson, and he came forth trusting only and 
trusting wholly in Christ’s righteousness for his sal- 
vation. He came daily to the Mission House for 
conversation upon the new religion, and many a night 
was spent by Mr. and Mrs. Wright in earnest con- 
versation with this man upon the subject now so dear 
to his heart. He would sit with the Indian Testament 
in his hand asking questions until two and three and 
sometimes four o’clock in the morning. 

His wife continued in strong opposition to the 
Christian religion. After having remained a whole 


week with us in the beginning of his new life, he 


176 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


started for his home several miles away. He was 
somewhat troubled with forebodings as to what kind 
of a reception he should meet from his family, 
with whom his path in life for the future must lie 
in a separate direction unless they should follow 
him. 

While walking through the woods it occurred to 
John that he would tell his new friend, Jesus, of his 
difficulties, and ask for strength to endure the trial 
before him. With the simplicity of a little child 
pleading with an earthly parent, he knelt down and 
asked that his family might receive him kindly and 
that there might be no collision between them on 
account of the great change in him, but that they 
might be induced also to enter the Shining Jesus 
Way. 

Strengthened and refreshed, he went home. His 
wife and family received him in a very different spirit 
from what he had anticipated. He told them the 
history of the change in his views and feelings, and to 
his grateful surprise met with no opposition. But the 
faith of John Hudson was soon to be sorely tested. 
The other pagan leaders, his friends, used every 
argument to draw him back to his former faith, but 
he remained firm, and in reply to all their entreaties 
that he would not leave his children, the pagans, he 
said : — 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 177 


‘“Tf you are my children, you must follow your 
father.” 

This exasperated them, and they withdrew from 
him in indignation, and began to devise ways and 
means to torture their former beloved father. The 
first step was to erect a new dance house directly in 
his neighborhood. John expressed his feelings upon 
this matter to his family, and earnestly entreated them 
to have nothing to do with this dance house; but there 
is a custom among the Indians that the uncles and 
aunts shall have as much authority over the children 
as the fathers and mothers. John Hudson had one 
son who was his pride and delight, whom he was 
gradually winning to look upon his new faith with 
favor. The son listened to the counsels of his father, 
and determined to abide by them and give up the 
pagan dances. During the absence of his father from 
home at one time, his aunt used all the inducements 
in her power to bring the young man back to the 
dances. He yielded to her authority, and by her 
command assisted in the work of the house with his 
father’s oxen. While’ drawing a very heavy stick of 
timber one of the oxen fell down and died instantly. 
When the father came home and learned that his son 
had been won back to the dances, and that one of his 
valuable oxen had died in the work of building the 
dance house, he was not in an enviable frame of 


* 


178 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


mind. He had not yet commenced his spring work. 
How was he to prepare the ground for his crops? 
His Indian temper was well roused, and he was de- 
termined to give vent to his feelings as soon as he 
could reach these relatives. 

But suddenly this thought came into his mind: ‘Is 
not this a temptation of the Evil One that he may stir 
me up and get the victory over me if he can?” 

He went into the deep woods and prayed that God 
would strengthen him to endure this trial in a Chris- 
tian spirit and enable him to trust Him for his daily 
bread. He also prayed that this new dance house in 
his neighborhood might never be completed. There, 
in the depths of the forest, upon his knees, this con- 
verted pagan made a resolution that no word or look 
should escape him when he met the people who had 
brought this trouble upon him, which should indicate 
that he had cherished any unpleasant feelings about 
his misfortune. 

God heard John Hudson’s prayer. That dance 
house was never completed. The timbers yet lie upon 
the ground, gradually becoming a part of the sur- 


rounding soil. 


One day we met John Logan! on the hill at the 
pagan settlement. He said in English: ‘‘ You know 
my wife blind. I leave her. Last night had a dream. 


1Not Chief Logan. 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 179 


Dreamed a man came to my house — took my wife 
away; felt anxious—followed on to see her fate; 
took her long distance —could not find her some- 
time. After a while I found her; she was hid in a 
cave — very little sun, very little light— could not 
see sun—could not see moon nor stars; she sat 
there lonely. Others sat there too—very sad, very 
gloomy. Man came to my wife and said ‘ Where’s 
your husband?’ She said, ‘Don’t know — gone 
away —left me because I’m blind.’ I felt very bad 
to find her in such a place. I waked up. I think 
about my dream: no sun—that means evil; afraid 
I have done wrong — afraid great trouble coming to 
me and to my wife — afraid I ought to take your 
religion and go back to my wife.” 

We asked him to come to the Mission House and 
talk with us about the new religion. The next day he 
came, and asked permission to put to us a few ques- 
tions for instruction. These were given in his own 
language : — 

1. When we die do our souls lie in the ground all 
the time until our bodies are raised up? 2. What 
tribe does God belong to? 38. What language does 
God speak? 4. What road shall we take to go to 
heaven? 

At last he was persuaded to stop asking questions, 
and give himself to the Lord Jesus Christ. We urged 


180 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


him to come to one of our meetings among the 
pagans, to commit himself there, and show which side 
he was on. When the opportunity was given him he 
sprang to his feet and owned that he had been too 
proud to accept Christ or to pray to him. 

‘¢ Now,” said he in his own language, ‘‘I am going 
to pray before you all.’”” His embarrassment was so 
great that when he knelt he seemed to fall upon the 
floor all in a heap. He cried out: — 

‘*Q God, you know what a poor sinful creature I 
am. I don’t know how to pray. Nobody ever heard 
me pray, but I’m going to try now, and I hope you 
will teach me how, so it will please: you to hear and 
answer me. O God! forgive my sins and help me 
now truly to believe on Jesus Christ.” 

In the course of the meeting he arose again and 
said, ‘* Now you shall hear my voice. You all know I 
am a great sinner. God knows it. But I have deter- 
mined to repent. A little while ago I did not know 
anything about the gospel, but the more I heard the = 
more I believed there was something in it that we 
have not got, that we pagans did not know anything 
about ; and now at this time I want you to hear me say 
I do believe this gospel, I believe that Jesus Christ 
is the Saviour of sinners. I have repented of my sins 
and now I want to give them up. I here resolve I 
will never drink another drop of whiskey in all my 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 181 


life; I repent of that. I repent too of my disobe- 
dience to my mother; I will never disobey her again. 
When she reproves me I will never answer back. I 
want to become like Christ. I have been in the habit 
of going to the dances every Sabbath day. I never 
got any good there but a great deal of harm. When I 
come to these meetings I hear something that makes 


me better.” 


A woman arose: ‘‘I have never been to one of 
your meetings before. My child has been in your 
Sunday-school. He said to me, ‘ Mother, why don’t 
you go to the meeting? I wish you would go, mother.’ 
I said, ‘My child, I am a pagan.’ ‘ But, mother,’ 
said he, ‘ will you go once to please me?’ When my 
child said that it went like a knife to my heart; it 
made me weep and tremble. I could not get over it. 
Something kept saying to me, ‘You must go! you 
must go!’ Iresolved to come and tell you my feel- 
ings, and confess my sins, and ask you to lead me 
into the Shining Jesus Way.” 


A LITERAL TRANSLATION OF A SENECA INDIAN HYMN. 


Ye people! Ye miserable ones! 
Receive 

The mercy of Jesus. 
Come! Receive it! 

Why will you die? 
Life is free to you, 

Receive it! receive it! 


182 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


A long time ago—he has waited for you, 
Come! Receive 

That which is so much to be coveted, 
Which he brings you, 

Come! Receive it! 
He is ready to heal you 

Of the sin that is killing you. 
Receive him! 

Come! Receive him! 


In our missionary rounds one day, Mrs. Wright and 
I found one of the most extreme cases of suffering I 
ever witnessed among the Indians. We entered a log 
house about ten feet square. The one room of the 
house contained three beds and the family, of about a 
dozen people, none of whom were especially neat in 
their habits. When we entered they were holding a 
consultation upon some matter which perplexed them. 
Our eyes followed dark glances directed to a certain 
corner of the room, and rested upon a helpless man 
lying upon the straw. I can never forget the look 
of wistful entreaty with which he regarded us. This 
man was unable to move a hand or an arm or to sit 
up a moment. “He had lain in the corner of this 
wretched log hut for three months, not even a blanket 
between that bruised and aching body and the little 
straw upon the floor. One hand was decaying and 
dropping off; mortification had reached the second 
joint of one of the fingers. The least jar of the arm 


was painful to him. The hand and arm were so 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 183 


swollen that you could hardly have told what they 
were, and as black as the stove. The other hand and 
arm, in sympathy with this one, were paralyzed. Upon 
questioning him he told us that when he was taken 
sick he had a wife, who had forsaken him; all his 
friends had forsaken him. They were afraid of his 
disease. He was famishing for want of food. Three 
months before his friends brought him to this hut, laid 
him in the corner on the floor, and left him. Ever 
since, these people had been trying to get rid of him. 
Sometimes, when he begged hard enough, they put a 
piece of bread in his mouth, and sometimes when he 
wept and prayed they gave him a little water. They 
were now consulting together because one had pro- 
posed to put him out in the woods and let him die 
there. 

‘¢T have begged these people,” said he, ‘‘ to go to 
the missionaries and tell them my condition; but we 
are pagans and they would not go to you. All these 
days I have lain here and listened for your footsteps, 
and hoped that you would come to this house. 
This morning I said, I shall be dead when they come 
here. This afternoon they are resolving to put me 
in the woods.” 

We promised these cruel people that if they would 
let him remain there until we could find a place we 
would move him away and take care of him. This 


184 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


was easier said than done. We were several miles 
from home, but we canvassed that neighborhood until 
dark trying to rent a shanty where we could lay our 
patient. They said :— 

‘¢He is poison; we dare not let him in.” These 
choice shanties which we could not rent for love nor 
money were simply rough boards or logs carelessly put 
together. Finally one man relented, and for a liberal 
consideration consented to let us have a shed attached 
to his house ; but it was too late to move the poor man 
that night. 

The next morning the old Mission horse started for 
the pagan settlement with a mixed load; a mattress, 
bedquilts, sheets and pillowcases, a cook stove, a 
bag of meal, some pork, a bag of potatoes, a tin dish 
or two, some boards to nail over the top of the shed 
to keep the patient from being deluged with rain. 
While looking up bedding Mrs. Wright’s face wore 
rather a perplexed expression for one moment. 

‘¢How can I spare these bedclothes!” she ex- 
claimed. ‘‘I never was so short of bedding since 
I came to the Mission. I actually cannot supply the 
beds for my family comfortably now.” 

‘¢ Never mind, auntie dear! The Lord will provide.” 

‘‘Of course he will!” she exclaimed. ‘‘ Why did 
I doubt for a moment?” 

Jt was not strange that she should feel perplexed, 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 185 


for this was not the first time, nor the second, nor 
even the third, within two weeks, that we had been 
obliged to share the clothing upon our beds with the 
suffering. 

Oh, what a happy, expressive face, what shining, 
orateful eyes, greeted us from the miserable corner as 
we told the poor man we had come to take him away! 
It was Sabbath morning, but this was surely Sabbath 
day work. There were several men standing about 
watching us curiously ; we asked them to make a litter 
and carry him to the shed which we had prepared for 
him. They said : — 

‘¢ We cannot touch him; we cannot carry him. We 
shall be poisoned.” 

My soul was so filled with indignation at that 
moment that I felt like shaking the dust from my feet 
and leaving them forever. Here was adilemma. We 
began to think that we should have to carry the man 
ourselves, when—oh, what joy!—we saw a wagon 
passing by containing four of our dear Indian breth- 
ren of the church. How good their faces looked to us 
at that moment! How quickly they understood our 
trouble! How promptly they leaped from the wagon, 
prepared the litter, and under our instructions drew a 
blanket gently under the afflicted one and lifted him 
slowly and carefully upon the mattress, which was 
arranged upon the litter, and gently carried him to the 


186 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


shed which we had hired! With all their care the 
poor creature groaned with pain at every step. Was 
it possible that these dear Christian brethren had only 
a few years before been sunk in the same darkness, 
superstition, and hardness of heart in which we found 
these cruel pagans ? 

A week later and our patient lying in a shed, seven 
feet by nine, upon a bedstead covered by a com- 
fortable mattress, was much better and very happy. 
His hand was properly dressed, his system strength- 
ened by nourishing food, and his sister had consented 
to become his nurse. This kind of treatment he had 
never received from his pagan friends. It won him 
to believe that there must be something in the blessed 
religion of Jesus, and he delighted to have one of us 
sit in a chair by the bed and tell him of this won- 
derful Friend, and sing our hymns, and always offer a 
prayer by his bedside. 

When we attempted to set up our stove in this little 
shed we discovered that there was no chimney; so 
we made a hole in the side of the house and put the 
pipe through. It rained, and the rain came pouring 
through the roof. We induced a man to lay slabs 
upon the roof. The wind blew through cracks in the 
sides of the room, upon which we tacked pieces of 
old oilcloth. Upon the side opposite the bed I saw 


a long shelf covered with straw. 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 187 


‘¢ This,” thought I, ‘‘ will make a nice place for the 
dishes and medicines.” I commenced pulling down 
the straw, but my hand was arrested by three indig- 
nant, motherly hens, each of which anticipated a fine 
brood of chickens very soon. 

‘¢ Let them stay,” said the sick man; ‘* they will be 
company for me.” 

Well, we took care of Moses Crow in that shed one 
month. That is to say, we went to see him every 
day, carrying nourishing food to eat, and washing and 
dressing that terrible hand. This superstitious, igno- 
rant pagan entered the ‘‘ Shining Jesus Way,” and 
found the great love broad enough and deep enough 
even for him. Almost the first words we heard 
every day were, ‘‘ Tell me more about my won- 
derful Friend.” At last the owner of the shed 
declined to let us have it any longer, and we were 
obliged to look up another house two miles away, 
where he was moved with less agony than at the 
first. 

One day Moses said to me, ‘‘ My friend, do you 
think I could learn to read?” 

*¢T think you could,” I said. 

‘* But how? I have no hands with which to hold 
the book.” 

*¢ T will make a book,” said I, ‘‘ that you can read 
without hands.” 


188 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


During that week I printed the English alphabet in 
large letters upon a big sheet of paper which we used 
in publishing the Bible and hymn books. This was 
tacked on the side of the room at the foot of his bed. 
One chart succeeded another as Moses advanced in 
the art of learning to read both in English and in his 
own language. JI used to wish that the boys and girls 
who did not care for school, or books, could see the 
wistful eagerness with which this poor creature studied 
his lesson each day. What would he not have given 
for one small privilege of the schoolboy ! 

One day Moses Crow asked us to invite some of 
the Indian brethren of the church to his bedside. He 
had something to tell them. When we were gathered 
there he said :— 

‘¢ Brothers, I want to tell you that I believe in Jesus 
Christ as my Saviour.” 

How this public confession touched our hearts! 
One brother said : — 

‘¢ Moses, do you give up paganism ?” 

‘¢ Wholly,” said he. 

‘¢ How did you come to give it up?” 

‘¢ Well,” said Moses, ‘‘ this was it. These kind 
friends who have taken care of me told me of Jesus 
and their religion. As I lay here all alone so many 
hours I began to compare it with my pagan religion. 
I remembered how cruel my pagan friends had treated 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 189 


me in my great trouble. I thought, What could have 
made these strangers take me in my trouble from that 
dreadful place, and make me comfortable and take 
care of me? I said it must be their religion. I said, 
I want a religion that will make anybody do such a 
thing as this. They told me many stories about their 
wonderful friend, Jesus, and what he did and what he 
said. Then [ got to thinking about him, and I kept 
growing more and more interested. One day I said 
to myself, ‘I will think about my pagan religion to- 
day, and compare it with this.’ It had vanished 
away! I could not find it anywhere. This blessed 
gospel of Jesus had taken its place and filled all my 
soul.” 

‘¢ Moses,” said another brother, ‘* what will you do 
with all your past wicked life and the many sins you 
have committed ?” 

‘<T have left all that with Jesus,” said he. 

We gave Moses a little prayer in Indian, which 
he repeated a great many times every day. ‘‘O 
Christ Jesus, help me to believe in thee every 
day as my Saviour from sin!” We wanted Moses 
to realize that it was not enough to believe that 
Jesus saved him once a long time ago from sin, 
or that he was going to save him by-and-by; we 
wanted him to believe that he was saved from sin 


then, every moment, every ‘day, so that he might 


190 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


know that peace of God which passeth all under- 
standing. . 

One morning I read to Moses from an Indian 
Testament the story of the wheat and tares. ‘‘ I was 
one of those tares,” exclaimed he. ‘* The devil had 
me. But I belong to Jesus now; the devil had me 
long enough, long enough.” 

‘¢ But, Moses, when you walk about among people 
again, will you not be tempted to go back to your 
pagan dances?” 

‘¢ No, no!” said he with great emphasis. ‘‘I want 
to go to meeting; [ want to spend my time with 
Christian people.” 

Captain Richard Matthews, of Boston, became in- 
terested in the story of this man, and sent him a suit 
of clothes. In response Moses dictated to him the 
following letter : — 


My dear Friend and Brother,—Iam very glad to write a few 
words to such a kind man as you are. I have been in great 
affliction, greatly pressed down with sickness and distress; but the 
Lord has raised me up through the kindness of Christian people, 
who pitied me in my forlorn condition, taking me into their 
keeping and nursing me back into life and strength, so that now 
I walk about on the earth once more. Such treatment as this I 
have never received from anybody before in iny life, and I am 
grateful to them and to God who made them what they are. 

This wonderful kindness which I received from those who 
pitied me and lifted me out of my wretchedness caused me to seek 
after the reason for their actions, and when I found it was Jesus, 
I wanted Jesus too. So I have repented of my sins, and I have 
been baptized. Once I was full of the devil, now I am clothed 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 191 


and in my right mind. God used this Christian kindness to cause 
my mind to take a great leap from paganism to Christ. When 
you think of me I want you to think of my mind as growing 
stronger all the time. 

My brother, I feel very grateful to you for the kindness you 
have shown me. It is strange, it is wonderful, it is something 
I cannot understand, that you, so far away, should care for my 
poor body. I can never forget it. I cannot work yet, but I 
can walk about, and these warm clothes will keep me comfort- 
able this winter. The boots will protect my feet from the snows, 
the coat and the vest and the pants will shield me from the 
chilling winds. Poor Moses Crow, the Indian, can do nothing 
for you, but his wonderful Friend, Jesus Christ, can, and I 
shall ask him to bless you always. I think I shall never 
meet you on this earth, but I know I shall see your face in 
heaven. 

My brother, I want you to think of me as one whom Jesus has 
saved, and helped to stand up firmly on the Lord’s side. I have 
given myself to Christ wholly, not for a little time, but for ever. 
I am satisfied; I am glad and happy all the time. 

Will you ask those kind ladies who meet at your house to sew 
and make me some underclothing to wear, to pray for me that I 
may never fall back into sin and forget what Jesus has done for 
me? Will you thank them for their kindness to me? 

I love to think of you all, and of the bright place where you 
live, all lighted up with the gospel. This has been a very dark 
place, but the light is coming here too. I think about you sailing 
on the great ocean. That is something I have never seen. Your 
Indian friend, MOSES CROW. 


The illustrious ancestor of Grandmother Destroy- 
town is known to history as one who, with a fierce 
band of warriors, wiped out a small town of pale 
faces, including men, women, and children, destroy- 
ing every house with fire. Grandmother Destroytown 
lived in the woods in an Indian cabin quite a distance 
from neighbors. She hated the missionaries and their 


192 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


religion most cordially, and declared that no mission- 
ary should ever enter her house. 

I was passing this little cabin one day on _horse- 
back. I saw the poor deluded woman near the 
house, gathering sticks. My heart went out to her 
with a great longing that her old age should be illu- 
mined by the light of the gospel. The door of the 
cabin stood wide open. For the sake of giving her 
the blessed message I resolved to disregard her 
wishes and enter the house. 

Great was the astonishment of the old woman, who 
had not seen me, when she came to her door to dis- 
cover a hated white woman, who was also a hated 
missionary, sitting in her house. I presently gave 
her the Indian salutation, ‘‘I hope it is well with 
thee, grandmother?” to which she did not respond. 

With a malignant scowl, which has been pictured 
upon my memory ever since, she passed me, went to 
the corner of her shanty, took a pail, and went out © 
to the spring. Soon she returned with a pail of water 
and poured it into a tub. Utterly ignoring me she 
passed back and forth from the spring to the tub 
until it was filled with water. I thought, ‘‘ When the 
tub is full she will sit down to rest and I will talk 
with her”; but when the tub was full she dipped the 
pail into it, and suddenly threw a pail of water into 
the middle of the room, and seizing a broom began 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 193 


to scrub her floor. Pailful after pailful was thrown, 
and in every case aimed at me, until my clothing and 
feet were drenched with water. Thinking I would 
not irritate the woman if I kept perfectly quiet, and 
that she would soon be reconciled to my presence, I 
did not speak a word. When I could not run the © 
risk of sitting there longer, I said :— 

‘¢ Well, Grandmother Destroytown, I came here 
with the hope of making you very happy. I have a 
message for you; it is a message of good news from 
heaven, and I greatly long to give it to you, for it 
would brighten all your last days. When you look 
back over your life you remember some things that 
you wish you could forget. There are stains of sin 
on your soul. I came to tell you about One who 
could wash away all those black stains and make 
your soul white and clean before God. This wonder- 
ful Being that I came to tell you about loves you more 
than I can possibly tell you, although you have never 
cared for him, and feel so bitter in your heart toward 
his messengers ; but should the time ever come when 
you want to hear about this wonderful Friend of 
yours, you may come to me at the Mission House. 
I shall never come to you again.” 

While I stood giving this message I was receiving, 
as fast as she could throw it at me, the water from 


her pail. Then I went out and mounted my horse, 


194 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


who must have been somewhat surprised at my drip- 
ping condition, and imagined that he had forgotten 
some recently forded stream. 

Some months before this episode we had taken into 
the Mission family two deserted grandchildren of 
Mrs. Destroytown, who had been converted to the 
Christian religion, and were children of great promise. 

One day a messenger from Grandmother Destroy- 
town demanded that we lend these two little girls to 
her for two days. The first impulse was to deny 
her request, for, as one of us remarked, ‘‘In two 
days she will undo our work of months.” Another 
said : — 

‘¢'These children are in the fold. Will not Christ 
guard his lambs, and perhaps through them reach the 
heart of the old pagan woman?” 

We decided to send them with united prayer that 
they might now be messengers of the gospel. 

Grandmother Destroytown had prepared an Indian 
dinner for her guests, and welcomed them with great 
delight. Could these be the miserable, half-starved 
creatures that she had cast out and left to perish in 
the woods nearly a year before? She looked at their 
bright faces, plump cheeks, shining eyes, smoothly 
brushed hair, clean clothes, in astonishment, and was 
very proud of them. As she was about helping them 
to the dinner, one of the little girls said :— 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 195 


‘¢Stop, grandmother! Wait!” 

The child knew that a blessing should be asked as 
at the Mission table, but having had no experience in 
this exercise was at a loss how to begin. Suddenly 
she remembered her little evening prayer. She closed 
her eyes, and folding her little brown hands, said : — 


‘“*Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep. 
If I should die before I wake, 
I pray the Lord my soul to take, 
And this I ask for Jesus’ sake.” 


A novel blessing for a noonday meal; but the little 
one had done the best she could, and who shall say 
that her effort was not accepted? As the old woman 
understood not one word of English, the only impres- 
sion left upon her mind was the child talking to 
Ha-wen-ni-yu. During the remainder of the day the 
little girls played happily together, and the grand- 
mother greatly enjoyed their childish chat. At night 
she was preparing to put them to bed upon a couch 
of skins in the corner when one of them said : — 

‘¢Stop, grandmother! Wait!” 

They knelt together, and in concert repeated the 
Lord’s Prayer, then clambered upon the couch, and 
with wide-open eyes watched their grandmother as 
she moved back and forth about the little cabin, ready ~ 
for any conversation which she might care to hold 
with them. She sat down by the open fire and said: 


196 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘‘Why ‘do you talk so much to Ha-wen-ni-yu? 
What are you saying to him?” 


’ 


‘¢Why, grandmother,” said the younger, ‘‘ we 
belong to Jesus now; we have given ourselves 
away to him. We are doing everything we can 
to please him, and we love him very much and we 
love to talk to him. He is our wonderful Friend, 
and he loves us more than anybody else in the 
world does. We always talk to him before we eat 
and before we sleep. We try to please him when we 
study, when we wash the dishes, and when we 
sweep the floor, and we try to please him when we 
play.” 

She listened attentively, and muttered, ‘‘ I suppose 
that is the reason I have not seen you scratch or bite 
or strike each other to-day.” 

The children prattled on to her of their great, 
loving Friend, and at last said, ‘‘ Grandmother, will 
you let us sing you a little hymn?” 

She consented and they sang to her in her own lan- 
guage the little hymn which we had prepared for the 


pagans : — 


Jesus, I come to thee, pity me! pity me! 
I am a poor sinner, oh, pity me! 

As thou art merciful, 

Thrust not aside my soul, 

Pity me, for I am a poor sinner. 

Only thy precious blood 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 197 


Is able to give me relief. 
According to thy mercy, 
According to thy lovingkindness, 
Wash me in thy blood. 

I am a poor sinner, 

But thou art able to save me. 


When the children finished the song the old grand- 
mother seemed to have forgotten them entirely as 
she sat with a far-away look upon her face, gazing 
into the fire. They soon fell asleep, but she sat there 
through the long hours of the night, reviewing all her 
past life in its darkness and ignorance and sin. Here 
she was, a lonely old woman on the verge of the 
grave. Had her life been all a mistake? Had she 
been in error? Were Handsome Lake’s teachings 
a delusion, and might she claim this wonderful 
Friend of the white man and be cleansed from all 
sin? She recalled a little verse that one of the 
children had repeated some time during the day: 
‘¢The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth me from 
all sin”; and the other one had said that if one 
came to him he should not be thrust aside. The Holy 
Spirit was doing his work of illumination in that 
benighted mind. 

The next morning the children came triumphantly 
into the Mission, leading between them old Grand- 
mother Destroytown. As I met them she said: — 

‘¢T remembered your words to me that I was to 


198 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


come to you if I wanted to hear more about the won- 
derful Friend. Tell me more now.” 

Grandmother Destroytown became a_ consistent 
member of the Mission church, and at last died in 
the triumph of the Christian faith. 


The experience of one day among these pagans will 
tell the story of many days during the following 
weeks and months. 

Mrs. Wright and I began this day with a meeting 
among the Plank Road pagans. Mr. Porcupine was 
very angry with us the week before because we ‘* in- 
terfered with the dances.” He sat outside in the 
wind, saying hard things about us, and took a bad 
cold. To-day he came into the house and said these 
words: ‘I have been very angry with you, but my 
mind has been greatly troubled since you were here 
last. I am an old man of eighty years. It is time 
for me to try to understand the new religion. Tell me 
how one so old can come into the Jesus Way.” He 
listened with great attention while the simple plan 


of salvation was made known to him. 


We called upon Moses Cornplanter. His young 
wife, a daughter of Cornstalk, was pretty and inter- 
esting. She looked at us wistfully as though troubled 
with questionings. Was she reaching out after light? 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 199 


She gave us cordial welcome and said, ‘‘I have at- 
tended your Plank Road meeting twice. It is the 
first time I have heard of the Jesus Way. I want 
to know the truth. Have I been taught an error?” 

Mrs. Wright explained the ‘‘ new religion” to her 
very clearly and read the words of Christ from 
the Indian Testament. We sang gospel hymns 
and prayed with her. 

Mr. Cornplanter was not pleased and had left the 
house. She thanked us for our words and said, ‘* My 
husband is a pagan, but he is not a bad man— he is 
not cross—he does not drink; but you know the 
woman must not go ahead. Will you win him so that 
I may come into the Jesus Way? I will gladly follow 
him.” 

Our next call was at Silversmith’s, to see poor little 
Jack Pigeon. He was lying upon a board covered 
with a bit of soiled blanket. A ragged piece of cot- 
ton cloth was thrown over him. Somebody had 
placed a spray of green leaves ina crack of the log 
near his board. He directed our attention to this 
as something very pleasant. A half-starved young 
robin, a pet, was hopping about on the rough floor. 
After ministering to the poor boy, we went out and 
dug worms for the robin. An old woman covered 


with rags and dirt watched us with interest and 


200 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


expressed surprise that we cared to handle the ugly 


worms! 


On our way back through the woods we heard groans 
from the vicinity of Porcupine’s cabin. While climb- 
ing a fence he had fallen and was badly bruised. 
With the remedies in our missionary bag we were 
able to bind up his wounds. After making him as 
comfortable as possible in his poor cabin, we looked 
up Mother Big-Tree and coaxed her to act as nurse 
for a time. The promise of a bright red handker- 
chief, when Porcupine should become convalescent, 
reconciled Mrs. Big-Tree to this rather uninviting 
position. 


On this day Mrs. Big Kettle, who seemed inclined 
to favor the gospel, had invited us to hold a meeting 
at her house. Brother Daniel Two-Guns, a member 
of the mission church, promised to meet us there and 
give us his assistance. After a drive of five miles we 
reached the Big Kettle cabin, to find it empty. A 
neighbor told us that Big Kettle, who was a pagan, 
was angry, and had taken his wife and the little Big 
Kettles away. She further made known the fact that 
he threatened to leave his wife if we held a meeting 
in his house. Brother Two-Guns had been there, and 


was now trying to find an open door for us in this 


ee 


| 
. 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 201 


neighborhood. We stepped into Mrs. Blacksnake’s 
cabin to await the return of our Christian brother. 
As soon as we sat down, the woman, with dark looks, 
began to wash her floor. She ‘‘swashed”’ the water 
with such vigor that we were well drenched. We went 
outside and sat upon a log and sang _ plaintively, 
‘¢ Where, oh, where is our good old Daniel?” 

At last his tall figure emerged from the forest. 
Without a word he sat down beside us. When ready 
to report he said that there was no door open to us in 
this neighborhood, but suggested that we remain upon 
the log a while and pray and sing there. We were 
too much chilled with the long waiting in our damp 
condition, thanks to the Blacksnake deluge, to accept 
his proposition, and were making arrangements to go 
home, when Mrs. Johnny John, who was passing, said, 
‘¢ You may have a meeting in my house.” 

We promptly accepted this unexpected invitation, 
and followed the woman a half mile over an indescrib- 
able trail, making familiar acquaintance with treach- 
erous holes and stumps. Her house of one room, 
sixteen feet by seventeen, accommodated three beds, 
a large stove, — red-hot at this time, —a table, and 
a bench. We blew our tin horn and _ thirty-two 
people responded to the call and were packed into 
this small room. A garment, or section of a 


garment, was tucked into every air hole by which 


202 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


broken windows and loose cracks might have been a 
merciful relief. 

We endured this sense of suffocation and physical 
discomfort until half-past ten. Each one had some- 
thing to say for or against the new religion, and it 
would have been a breach of Indian etiquette, not 
easily forgiven, to have closed the meeting earlier. 
Mrs. Wright and I were asked to sing sixteen times. 
It required more will power each time to open our 


mouths in that polluted atmosphere. 


At last we started for home. While fording the 
creek the bottom of our wagon fell into the water and 
floated down stream. ‘* We ought,” said Mrs. Wright, 
‘¢to be thankful that the wheels are left, for they will 
take us home.” We had never before appreciated the 
value of the dashboard, upon which our feet were 
elevated until we gladly dismounted at the Mission 


home. 


Four miles from the Mission House, in the woods of 
the pagan settlement, stood a small frame house, where 
lived Miss Sylvia P. Joslin, a missionary teacher. 
There were no flights of stairs in this house of two 
rooms. On one side of the partition Miss Joslin in- 
structed all who could be induced to come to her 
school. On the other side she cooked and ate and 
slept and read, and prayed for the people for whom 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 203 


she had isolated herself from her world. She had 
absolutely no companionship but that of these pagans 
whom she was trying to win for Christ. She worked 
against terrible ignorance and prejudice, but not with- 
out results. They did not drive her away and ‘the 
children became interested in the school. 

It was a blessed custom at the Mission House to 
send occasionally for these lonely workers at the out- 
stations, and give them the comfort of a day or two 
of Christian companionship. It becomes my turn to go 
for our dear, brave Miss Joslin, and Ruhama stands 
at the door waiting for me. She is attached to a 
rickety wagon. An old hen is tied under the seat to 
be left with a sick man on the way. She is making 
vigorous efforts to extricate herself and is quite likely 
to succeed during the miles of travel before her. In 
front is a basket containing an old cat and kittens for 
Miss Joslin, the unhappy family being kept in place 
by a well-ventilated bit of carpet. There are sundry 
packages to be transferred from the mission larder 
to that of Miss Joslin — beans, pickles, a section of 
pork, a few vegetables, etc. There is also a bottle 
of milk and a few flowers from the mission garden. 
These for a sick woman on the way. Ruhama and 
[ are off. 


How many times I have heard Mrs. Wright say, 


204 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢ The greatest need of these Indians is to be set at 
work. We have preached to them faithfully, we have 
sent away many young men and women to be trained 
intellectually, we have looked carefully after their 
souls; but with all the training of heart and head, 
that training of the hand by which the daily bread 
must be provided has been neglected. The best way 
to help anybody, white man or Indian, is to teach 
him how to help himself. ‘These Indian men should 
be Christian carpenters, blacksmiths, shoemakers, and 
these Indian women should be Christian housekeep- 


a 
ers, needlewomen, laundresses. These boys and girls 


should learn how to be Christian workers skilled in all 
the trades.” 

After many exhortations to the missionaries and 
Missionary Board in this matter, Mrs. Wright re- 
solved to make the experiment herself, of industrial 
work among the pagan women, who with their hus- 
bands were far behind the Christians in every respect, 
being deplorably poor and improvident. One day, 
with the aid of a good dinner, she brought a com- 
pany of these women together, and providing them 
with cotton cloth, flannel, and calico, she gave them 
their first lessons in cutting and making clothing for 
themselves and their families. While busily at work 
with their needles she gave them first the Word of 
God; then needful lessons in the matter of house- 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 205 


keeping, bringing up children, etc. This was the 


-beginning of weekly meetings of this character. 


There was usually an opposition gathering outside, 
who amused themselves in holding up to ridicule those 
within. As the number of workers increased they 
were much cramped for room. 

At this time Hon. E. P. Smith, of Washington, 
Commissioner of Indian Affairs, visited the Reserva- 
tion. He became interested in this effort of Mrs. 
Wright, and said : — 

‘‘You must have more room. If you will secure 
a piece of land, you shall have a house for your indus- 
trial class.” 

This greatly alarmed the pagan leaders, who 
shrewdly said, ‘‘ This sewing is a ruse to break 
down our religion. If this house goes up, our reli- 
gion will go down. We will not give a foot of land 
in this settlement to set that house on.” 

They warned Mrs. Wright threateningly to stop the 
work. After a year of waiting, one brave man, a 
pagan, came boldly forward and gave the land for 
the house, which, strange to say,-was built without 
further molestation. Besides the industrial class it 
has been used for Sunday-schools, temperance meet- 
ings, and Christmas festivals. 

Mrs. Wright’s next step in the plan for the women 
was to teach them to make garments for sale, and 


206 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


with the money thus obtained buy more material; but 
the prices paid for the garments were so low that this 
did not prove a financial success. The women, how- 
ever, had become thoroughly interested and imbued 
with the healthful fascination of earning something, 
and were clamorous for more work. 

At this crisis Mrs. Wright was able to secure em- 
ployment from the Indian Department at Washington, 
consisting of coats of duck, and red flannel shirts 
for the western tribes. The government promised 
to purchase these if she would make them, but 
could not advance the necessary funds for ma- 
terial. In her anxiety to secure work for the 
women she accepted the offer, borrowing the money 
to purchase material for six hundred and fifty 
garments. 

Such was the desire to do this work that many 
women came miles to get it, some of these poor crea- 
tures wading a stream in midwinter rather than lose 
the opportunity. Several women took machines and 
learned how to use them, hoping to be able to pay 
for them in work. This was a welcome season to the 
women, but a season of great anxiety to their mis- 
sionary who had incurred a debt of eight hundred 
dollars. This, however, she was able to pay when, 
after many weeks, the government paid her for the 
garments. 


y 
\\ 


eb hep 
\\ 


CORNPLANTER. 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 207 


This matter of gospel industrial education is the 
one step by which as a nation we may right a great 
wrong in the black records of our dealings with the 


Indian race. 


Allusion has been made to the pagan prophet. His 
name was Handsome Lake, and he was a half-brother 
of the famous warrior Cornplanter. Through his con- 
stant companions, Blue-Eyes, Big-Tree, and two or 
three others, the following particulars are well known 
concerning this curious Indian prophet. He was born 
in 1735, and had been a very dissipated man. One 
day, after a long illness, he lay upon his bed of skins 
very near death. His daughter, who was ministering 
to him, had stepped to the door to welcome some 
friends, when she heard a groan and sprang back in 
season to see her father fall upon the floor. With 
help she placed him upon the bed. 

He opened his eyes and exclaimed, ‘‘I heard a 
voice. It said, ‘Come out here.’ I started to go and 
I saw three persons close by the door. They were 
shining ones. No man ever looked as they did. 
They were covered with a glory. Their faces were 
painted a little as we paint our faces. They said, 
‘The Good Ruler has sent us to you; we have come 
to call you; there were four of us when we started, 
but one has gone back to the Happy Home beyond 


208 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


the Setting Sun, where we live. It was important 
that he be present at a great dance there to-day. 
You will see him by-and-by. You expect to die 
soon. You have begged Ha-wen-ni-yu to spare your 
life. You have promised that if he does this you 
will repent of your bad life, and hereafter live a 
new life. Ha-wen-ni-yu hears your prayers and your | 
promise. At noon to-morrow you shall be perfectly 
restored. At that hour throw away your medicine.’ 

‘¢The Bright One handed me a strawberry vine 
covered with the fruit, and said, ‘ Eat it and be well.’ 
Let Dry Mush and his wife take you into the woods 
and kindle a fire and care for you; but let no other 
person be near, or see you for three days. Then call 
the people together, and we will come to you with the 
message of Ha-wen-ni-yu for the people.’ ” 

Handsome Lake obeyed these orders, and in three 
days called the people together and gave the heavenly 
message as he declared it was given to him by the 
Bright Ones at his side, who were visible to him 
alone. 

‘¢The Good Ruler,” said he, ‘‘is displeased with 
you. You do many things of which he disapproves. 
He will now, through these Bright Ones who are with 
me, and for whom I interpret, make known to you his 
will. You have four great sins of which you must 
repent ; —~ 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 209 


‘$1. You drink too much fire water. You may 
drink one cup of fire water in the morning, one at 
noon, one at night. This is all. 

‘¢2. You sin in permitting witches among your peo- 
ple. Ha-wen-ni-yu is displeased at this. You must 
repent. 

‘¢3. You break up your families too easily. Ha- 
wen-ni-yu wishes you to live with your families and 
take care of them. Death only must separate you. 
If you leave your families and get other families 
three times, you will not be admitted to the Happy 
Home hereafter. 

‘4, You sing tunes from other nations at your 
dances. These are poison. You may dance again 
and have the kettles boiled, but repent of this.” 

The Bright One then made a personal remark to 
Handsome Lake, but we are not told that he made it 
known to the assembled multitude. It was this: 
‘¢'There are some things which you yourself must re- 
pent of if you are to be a prophet to this people. 
You must not sing at the dances for the dead. | It is 
not right.” 

‘¢ And now,” continued the Bright One, ‘‘ you may 
tell the people what will please Ha-wen-ni-yu. 

‘1. You must give of your abundance to those who 
lack substance. 


*¢2, You who have no children must take an orphan 


210 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


child, and give it the same care and love you would 
your own. 

‘¢3. If you tie up the strings of the clothes of an 
orphan child, Ha-wen-ni-yu will notice it and reward 
you. 

‘4, If a stranger comes to your people, welcome 
him to your home, be hospitable to him, speak kind 
words to him, and always mention the Good Ruler, 
Ha-wen-ni-yu.” 

Then the Bright One spoke to Handsome Lake, and 
said : — 

‘¢ What do you see?” 

He said, ‘‘ I see a man bringing a load of meat, and 
he gives some of it to every person he meets.” 

Then said the Bright One, ‘*‘ Learn the lesson. 
This man is blessed; this is pleasing to the Good 
Ruler; he loves those who are bountiful, but he 
is displeased with the covetous man. When that 
man dies he cannot get away. His covetousness 
sticks to him and is heavy. upon him and holds 
him down, so that he cannot rise toward the Happy 
Home. | 

‘¢'Those who have charge of the amusements here 
will be taken out of the hands of death, and will lead 
the amusements in the Happy Home. 

‘‘'Those who dance here will also dance in the 
Happy Home; but those who neglect the dances here 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 211 


will not be happy there, for they will not be permitted 
to dance there. 

‘¢ Again, you say, ‘Oh! the whiskey is not bad. 
It touches our food. It is made of our corn.’ Go to 
the council house. Put half the people on one side, 
and give them whiskey. Put half the people on the 
other side, and give them bread. You will notice the 
difference. Those who drink will fight. Those who 
eat the corn bread will go peaceably away.” 

After this great meeting, in which Handsome Lake 
assured the people that the Bright Ones, or angels, 
had given him all these words, he published to all the 
people that he was inspired ; that the Good Ruler had 
given him supernatural gifts, and that he was to give 
them a new revelation. 

He claimed to have been taken in a vision to the 
Happy Home beyond the Setting Sun. It was filled 
with Indians. The white people were all shut out. 
George Washington was permitted to look into this 
paradise from afar, because he had been kind to the 
Indians. 

He claimed also to have visited the House of Tor- 
ment. There he saw a drunken Indian. The Eyil- 
Minded was pouring a cup of boiling lead down his 
throat; the flame burst from his mouth, as he 
screamed with agony. There were a great many 
kettles of boiling lead, into which people were 


212 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


° 


plunged, who kept moving up and down with the 
boiling liquid. There were many who were being 
tormented by a red-hot iron. 

When a man died, if he had obeyed the prophet, 
he would go directly to the Happy Home by a narrow 
path. If he had not obeyed him, he had to take a 
long, crooked road, which led him through the various 
punishments of the House of Torment. He saw an 
Indian there who had been in the habit of beating his 
wife. He was obliged to beat a red-hot statue, and 
the sparks continually flew out and burned him. 

Those who had sold fire water to the Indians had 
the flesh eaten from their arms. ‘Those who sold land 
to white people would be forever employed in remoy- 
ing mountains of sand, grain by grain. 

Lazy women would be employed in pulling up weeds 
in a large field of corn, which would immediately grow 
again. 
There was an appropriate punishment also for those 
who were unkind to the aged or children. 

The new prophet went from house to house, from 
village to village, telling of his visions and revela- 
tions, and the Indians believed in him. 

One day, as Handsome Lake stood before a great 
assembly of people, he saw David Halftown passing 
by. He said, ‘‘ There goes a perfect man. He 


pleases Ha-wen-ni-yu in all the dances and amuse- 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 213 


ments. He will have a high place in the other 
world.” 

Just then the Bright Ones said to him, ‘‘ Look into 
the other world ; what do you see?” 

‘¢T see Red Jacket.” 

‘¢ What is he doing?” 

‘¢ He is wheeling a load of dirt back and forth.” 

‘* Well,” said the angels, ‘‘so will it be with him 
forever, because he sold the lands of his people.” 

- When the Quakers came to the Reservation and 
wished to teach the children, the people asked Hand- 
some Lake what they should do. After a vision he 
told them that the Good Ruler was willing that the 
Quakers should do as they pleased, because they had 
always befriended the Indians ; and so the Quakers 
were among the first to start schools among them. 

One day the angels took Handsome Lake to see 
what befell those who did not obey his teachings. He 
saw a rope and fetters, and a prison with stone walls. 
‘These things,” said the angels, ‘‘ are for those who 
do not listen to your preaching.” 

Cornplanter, a chief of great power among the 
Senecas, had two children who were taken ill. Not- 
withstanding all the boasted power of the prophet 
Handsome Lake, both children died. Cornplanter was 
furious, and said, ‘*‘ How is this? If you were a true 


prophet, you could have saved my children. I will have 


214 LIFE AMQNG THE IROQUOIS. 


{» 


nothing more to do-with you!” and he drove him and 
his followers away from that settlement. [rom this 
time the power of the pagan prophet began to wane. 

The climax came when he told the people that there 
was a monstrous serpent a foot underground, on the 
road to Buffalo. It would be a dreadful thing if this 
awful serpent should come above ground and devour 
them all. But by his powers he could hold him in 
check. Some of the people said, ‘‘ We will take our 
shovels and dig for this monster and kill it!”’ but he 
solemnly warned them that the most disastrous conse- 
quences would attend any such excavation. 

Old Sun Fish stood up before the prophet and said, 
‘¢T believe you are lying to us. I will take my snow 
shovel and dig him out if he is there.” 

After this test they applied other tests to his state- 
ments, and many left him. Yet there were others 
who followed him to the end; and there are even now 
those who believe in the divine mission of Handsome 
Lake, and who earnestly exhort the pagans to heed 
his instructions. 


Old Silverheels, a pagan, appeared at the Mission 
House one day and said, ‘‘ A messenger tells me that 
the lady from the land of the rising sun [Boston] 
likes to listen to the story of our race. Would she 
like to hear about our feasts?” 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 915 


Of course she would! But she was not to be grati- 
fied until the body of Silverheels should be nourished 
by the white man’s bread and his spirit comforted by 
his favorite tobacco. When these important prelimi- 
naries had been suitably adjusted he was ready to 
begin. His statements were as follows : — 

‘* My people have six festivals, in which we thank 
the Good Ruler, Ha-wen-ni-yu, for the maple tree 
which gives us its sweet water and our sugar; for the 
wonderful strawberry and for the green corn. At 
the New Year’s feast we thank him for all his gifts. 
We have also the big feather and medicine feasts. 
Certain people are elected as ‘keepers of the faith,’ 
and they always get up the feast. We always dance 
at our feasts, because it is pleasing to Ha-wen-ni-yu. 
We used to have thirty-two dances, and we believe 
that we shall dance in the Happy Home beyond the 
Setting Sun, and have strawberries to eat every day, 
and so we thank Ha-wen-ni-yu for the strawberries.” 

The strawberry feast in old times consisted entirely 
of the wild fruit eaten with maple sugar in bark 
trays. Before partaking, the leader returned thanks 
for the people to Ha-wen-ni-yu, and also to the earth, 
water, air, and fire, for the special blessings given by 
each. 

‘¢ At the green corn festival we thanked Ha-wen- 


ni-yu for the corn, beans, and squashes. But the 


216 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


New Year’s festival was our great festival and is 
so to this day. 

At the maple festival, in old times, the leader made 
this speech : — 


Friends: The Sun, the ruler of the day, is high in his path, 
and we must hasten to our duty. We are here to observe an 
ancient custom handed down by our forefathers, and given to 
them by the Gocd Ruler, Ha-wen-ni-yu. He requires us to give 
thanks for the blessings we receive. We will be faithful to this 
command. 

Friends: The maple is yielding its sweet waters. We join in 
thanksgiving to the maple, and also to Ha-wen-ni-yu, who made 
this tree for the good of the red man. 


The services of the day were closed with the 
‘¢ oreat feather dance.” 

‘¢ When we addressed the Good Ruler directly we 
threw tobacco on the fire that our words might ascend 
to him on the incense. We never used incense at any 
other time. The leader would say :— 


Ha-wen-ni-yu, listen now to our words. The smoke of our 
offering arises. Listen to our words as they arise to thee in smoke. 
We thank thee for the sweet water of the maple. We thank thee 
for the return of the planting season. Let our corn and beans and 
squashes grow. Ha-wen-ni-yu! continue to listen, for the smoke 
yet arises [throwing on tobacco]. Preserve us from pestilential 
diseases. Preserve our old men, and protect our young. Ha-wen- 
ni-yu! thou dost love thy people and hate their enemies. Thou 
hast given us the panther’s heart, the eagle’s eye, the moose’s foot, 
and the cunning of the fox; but to our enemies thou hast given 
the eye of the owl in daylight, the foot of the turtle, the heart of 
woman, and the stupid brain of the bear in winter. 


© fez a eG 


Stas 
Ss 


And whene’er some lucky maiden 
Found a red ear in the husking, 


‘* Nushka! you shall have a sweetheart.” 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 24D 


At a time of drought they called a council, and 
prayed to Heno, the Thunderer, for rain : — 

‘¢Heno, our grandfather, hear us! Listen to our 
words. We feel grieved, our minds are troubled. 
Come and give us rain, that the earth may not 
dry up, and refuse to support the life of thy grand- 
children.” ? 

‘¢ Silverheels,” said I, ‘‘why didn’t they call on 
Ha-wen-ni-yu for rain?” | 

‘¢ Because the heart of Heno, the Great Thunderer, 
would be more easily touched by the pitiful cry of his 
suffering grandchildren than by an order from the 
Great Ruler.” 

When the Indian told us that the green corn feast 
consisted of succotash, a soup of corn and beans 
boiled together, our pride in this purely Yankee dish 
received a shock. It is centuries old and we received 
it from the Indian! Mr. Silverheels begged for a 
short recess that he might indulge in that custom of 


? 


the white man known as ‘‘a smoke,” and thus gain 
inspiration to tell us of the most wonderful feast and 


dance of all: — 
THE NEW YEAR’S FEAST AND THE WHITE DOG DANCE. 


After the ‘‘ smoke” the old man stretched himself 
upon the bearskin in front of the fireplace, and fell 
asleep. Not being possessed of that troublesome 


218 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


reminder, a watch, and unburdened in mind as to 
‘Cappointments” or ‘‘ business engagements,” he 
slumbered on, knowing from past experience of 
missionary hospitality that he was welcome to the 
bearskin and the floor for the night, should he 
choose to occupy it. The fact that the members of 
the family, passing back and forth upon household 
errands, were obliged to step over his prostrate form 
did not in the least disturb his repose. 


bd 


‘¢ All things come to him who waits,” and at last 
the Indian veteran pronounced himself ready to speak 
of the exciting scenes of the ‘‘ white dog dance.” 

‘¢ This festival,’ said he, ‘‘in old times lasted nine 
days. The week before, two grotesque-looking per- 
sons called at every house with a message. They were 
dressed in bearskins fastened about their heads with 
wreaths of corn husks, and falling loosely over the 
body or girdled about the loins. Their arms and 
wrists were ornamented with wreaths of husks, and in 
their hands they held corn pounders, Upon entering 
a house they knocked upon the floor to command. 
silence, and then said these words : — 7 

‘¢¢Tisten! listen! listen! ‘The ceremonies which 
Ha-wen-ni-yu commands are about to commence. Pre- 
pare your houses. Clear away the rubbish. Drive 
out all evil animals. Should your friend be taken sick 


and die, we command you not to mourn nor allow 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 219 


your friends to mourn. Lay the body aside. When 
the ceremonies are over we will mourn with you.’ 

‘¢ After a song of thanksgiving the messengers 
departed, to repeat this ceremony in every house.” 

‘¢ Did they actually obey the command to lay aside 
a dead body nine days for this feast? ” 

‘Yes. If any one died during the festival, the 
body was put away and no evidence of sorrow was 
visible until afterward, and then the funeral rites 
were performed as though he had just died. 

‘¢ On the first day of the feast, a white dog ‘ with- 
out spot or blemish’ was chosen and strangled, that 
no blood should be shed or bones broken. The body 
was painted with spots of red and decorated with 
feathers. Around the feet were wound strings of 
wampum and beads. The dog was then fastened to 
the top of a pole, about twenty feet from the ground, 
where he remained until the fifth day. Then they 
built an altar of wood, upon which the body of the 
dog was laid and burned. As they did this the great 
thanksgiving address was made, and tobacco was con- 
stantly thrown upon the fire that the prayer might 
ascend in the clouds of smoke : — 

‘¢¢ fail! Ha-wen-ni-yu! hail! Listen with an open 
ear to the words of thy people.’ (Throwing on more 
tobacco.) ‘Continue to listen. Give us zeal and 
fidelity to celebrate the sacred ceremonies which thou 


220 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


hast given to us. We thank thee that we still live. 
We thank our Mother Earth which sustains us. We 
thank the Rivers for the fish. We thank the Herbs 
and Plants of the earth. We thank the Bushes and 
Trees for Fruit. We thank the Winds which have 
banished disease. We thank our Grandfather Heno 
for the rain. We thank the Moon and Stars which 
give us light when the Sun has gone to rest. We 
thank the Sun for the warmth and light by day. 
Keep us from evil ways that the Sun may never hide 
his face from us for shame and leave us in darkness. 
We thank thee, O mighty Ha-wen-ni-yu, our Creator 
and our Good Ruler. Thou canst do no evil. Every- 
thing that thou doest is for our happiness.’ 

‘¢ During this feast there were social hours, and 
times for games. On one day all the people went 
into each other’s houses, each one carrying a wooden 
shovel, with which the ashes upon the hearth were 
stirred and scattered, while invoking a blessing upon 
the household. 

‘* They were allowed to enter the houses and secure 
something for a feast without detection. If detected, 
they must give up the article and try again. Another 
amusement at this time was guessing dreams. They 
had a great variety of games during the week. 

‘¢'The war dance, which was a part of this festival, 
is something which I cannot make you see. I have 


AMONG THE PAGANS. 221 


no words. They acted war. The war song was sung 
which aroused all the fire of the young warriors — and 
then the arrows flew thick and fast, the tomahawk was 
lifted, the dead and dying were upon the battlefield, 
the scalps were taken; and then you could hear the 
shout of victory and the dirge for the slain. It was 
all done by various devices of paint, false scalps, etc., 
but it appeared very real and was terribly exciting. 

‘¢You cannot understand,” said the old man with 
kindling face, ‘‘ what a joyful time it was. Nobody 
knew any trouble during those nine days.” 

‘¢ Silverheels,” said I, ‘‘do tell us about the Medi- 
cine Feast.” 

‘¢ Listen! * said the old man. ‘‘ There is a wonder- 
ful medicine used by the Iroquois Indians, which they 
believe will restore a man even though shot through 
the body, if he can have it in season. ‘They tell us 
that this medicine is composed of a little of the flesh 
and blood and fiber of every animal and every herb 
on this continent. It is prepared by special medicine 
men, and I will tell you its origin. 

‘¢ Many, many years ago, a*Seneca was killed by 
some of the southern Indians while upon the war- 
path. He was shot with an arrow through the body, 
and left in the woods near the trail. He had been a 
ereat hunter, but it was his habit to take only the skin 
of the animal, leaving the flesh for the wolves, and 


222 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


wild bears to eat. As he lay dead upon the ground 
there came along a wolf who looked upon the dead 
man with sorrow, and set up a wail which called all 
the wild animals about him. He then addressed 
them : — 

‘¢¢ Can we not in our united wisdom bring this dead 
man to life, who has been our best friend by always 
killing the larger animals and leaving their flesh for 
us to eat?’ 

‘¢ The eagle, vulture, bear, and all flesh-eating ani- 
mals said, ‘ We will try.’ 

‘¢So they set themselves to work to prepare a 
medicine. Each one was to furnish the most potent 
remedy with which he was acquainted. An acorn cup 
contained the whole when it was finished. This they 
poured down the throat of the dead man. Then they 
sang to him, each one with his peculiar note, while the 
birds fanned him with their wings. All night long 
they surrounded him, making the best efforts they 
could to restore him. In the morning they discovered 
some warmth about the heart and the question was 
raised, ‘Who will go after the scalp which the enemy 
has taken from him?’ 

‘¢ After much discussion the chicken hawk offered 
to reclaim it. He flew with great speed, soon arriving 
at the enemy’s camping ground. He saw the scalp 
of his friend stretched on a hoop with many others, 


AMONG THE PAGANS. yes 


suspended on a pole and painted red. The whole 
settlement were dancing about it and rejoicing over 
their victory. He seized it with his beak, flew back, 
and found the man sitting up and almost well. They 
soaked the scalp until it was soft and then fitted it 
upon his head. They then taught this man how to 
make the wonderful medicine which had restored him 
to life, and which they named Ga-ni-gah-ah (a little 
liquid). And this is the origin of our famous medi- 
cine which will restore the dead to life if taken in 
season. 

*¢ In our day this medicine is made into a very fine 
powder. ‘Then some one takes a cup and goes to the 
brook, fills it, dipping toward the way the water runs, 
and sets it near the fire. A prayer is offered while 
tobacco is thrown upon the fire, so that the words may 
ascend with the smoke. The medicine is placed upon 
a piece of skin near the cup, then taken up with a 
wooden spoon and dusted upon the water in three 
places in spots in the form of a triangle. If the 
medicine spreads itself over the surface of the water 
and wheels about, it is a sign that the invalid will be 
healed. If it sinks directly, there is no hope— the 
sick person will die, and the whole is thrown away.” 

‘¢ But what about the medicine feast?” 

‘¢'The white woman pushes me,” said Silverheels, 


somewhat annoyed. ‘‘I am preparing her mind to 


224 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


understand the feast. The medicine feast is held at 
the hunting time. As soon as it is dark on the night 
of the feast, all those who are permitted to attend shut 
themselves in one room without light or fire. The 
embers are covered, the medicine is placed near them, 
and the tobacco by its side. Then they begin to sing 
something which proclaims that the crow and other 
animals whose brains form the medicine are coming to 
the feast. At the end of the song, the ‘ caw’ of the 
crow, the howl of the wolf, etc., are imitated. Three 
times in the course of the night prayer is offered, while 
throwing tobacco upon the smothered flames. They 
pray that the medicine may heal the sick and wounded. 
Through the night the door has been locked, and no 
one has been allowed to enter or leave the house, or to 
sleep, as this would spoil the medicine. 

‘¢ Just before dawn the leader takes a deer’s head, 
and biting off a piece, passes the head to another, who 
does the same, until all have tasted. A little later the 
leader takes a duck’s bill, and, dipping it full of the 
medicine, gives it to each one present, who puts it in 
a bit of skin, and wrapping it in several coverings 
keeps it carefully until the next feast. The skin of 
the panther is preferred. Those who take part in 
these ceremonies are medicine men. These medicine 
men add pulverized roots of corn and squashes and 
bean vines to the original powder. 


o 


a 


AMONG THE PAGANS. VA SY 


‘¢ Perhaps you have been told,” said old Silverheels, 
‘¢ that the Indian knows more about the healing herbs 
than any other race?” 

‘¢ How can it be?” I asked skeptically. 

*¢T will tell you,” said the Indian, ‘‘as my grand- 
father told me. . An Indian hunter went forth to hunt. 
Suddenly he heard a strain of beautiful music. He 
listened, but could not tell whence it came. He knew 
it was not from any human voice. When he thought 
he was approaching the sound it ceased. 

‘¢’ Then came Ha-wen-ni-yu to him in a dream and 
said, ‘ Wash yourself until you are purified; then go 
forth and you will again hear the music.’ 

‘¢ So he purified himself, and went into the thickest 
woods, and soon his ear caught the sweet strains, and 
as he drew near they became more beautiful. Then 
he saw that the wonderful music came from a plant 
with a tall green stem and tapering leaves. He cut 
the stalk, but it immediately healed and became as 
before. He cut it again, and again it healed. Then 
he knew it would heal diseases. He took it home, 
dried it by the fire, and pulverized it. When applied 
to a dangerous wound it no sooner touched the flesh 
than it was made whole. Thus Ha-wen-ni-yu taught 
the Indian the nature of medicinal plants, and from 
that time has directed him where they are to be 
found.” 


226 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢ Minnie Myrtle”? was our guest at the Mission 
House many weeks, while she studied these Indians 
and at the same time wrote ‘**‘ The Iroquois,” from 
materials which we secured for her. She says :— 

‘¢ When we read that the Indian ornamented himself 
with the husks of his favorite maize and went from 
house to house with a basket to gather offerings from 
the people, we call it heathenish and barbarous, while 
the story of Ceres, the goddess of corn, whose head 
was surrounded with sheaves and who holds in her 
hand a hoe and basket, is picturesque and beautiful! 

‘¢ We listen to the Indian story of the woman in the 
moon, who is constantly employed in weaving a net, 
which a cat ravels whenever she sleeps, and that the 
world is to come to an end when the net is finished ; 
and we say ‘ Ridiculous!’ But the story of Penelope 
weaving her purple web by day to be raveled by 
night, during the prolonged absence of her husband, 
Ulysses, is a conception worthy of being expanded 
into a poem of a thousand lines and translated into 


all languages !” 


WHEN the white people asked the Iroquois for land enough to 
stretch themselves upon, they consented to give them that much; 
but discovering after a time that the strip was a mile long they 
remonstrated, saying, ‘‘Why! do you not know that we, the 
Iroquois, are so powerful that if an enemy attenipts to take 
possession of our territory, we need not to raise our whole hand 
against him? One finger would destroy him! ”? 


tua $ 


peparmyyentieg 


= Se 


Such us these the shapes they painted 
On the birch bark and the deerskin. 


—Longfellow’s Hiawatha. 


ome 


XIV. 
THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 


N long winter evenings Mrs. Wright and I 
sometimes joined a group of Indians gathered 
about the open fire while the oldest warrior related the 
historic legends of their race, as handed down through 
the centuries from fathers and fathers’ fathers, and, 
strange to say, with very slight variation. Will the 
reader join the group this evening and listen to old 
‘¢Squire Johnson,” who is approaching his hundredth 
year, with eye and ear and memory unimpaired. I do 
not know the origin of his English name, but it was 
probably given him by some friendly white man. He 
is a member of the Mission church —a consistent and 
devoted Christian. He lives alone in a small cabin 
on the shore of Lake Erie. At dawn every Sabbath 
morning he may be seen starting for the Mission 
church, seven miles away, to which he regularly walks, 
through cold, heat, rain, or snow, for the all-day serv- 
ice, returning to his lonely cabin at night to praise 
God for the privilege. 
This evening he will take us back to the creation, 
as the story has been handed down to him by his 
229 


230 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


ancestors, and bring us gradually down to the present 
age. He speaks no English, and the story loses much 
of its vividness in the translation. Will he be able 
to throw any light upon the mysterious origin of this 
strange race? 

‘¢T will tell you first,” he remarks serenely, ‘‘ the 
origin of good and evil. 

‘¢ At one time there was no earth, and all this world 
was one immense lake, in which great multitudes of 
water animals amused themselves after their own 
fashion of diving and playing in the water. It is 
well known that at that time these animals had the 
gift of language. | | 

‘¢Qne day a duck, who was possessed of uncom- 
mon intelligence, cried out, ‘Some strange being is 
coming down to us from the sky!’ <A council of 
waterfowls was called at once to decide what should 
be done to prepare for this being who might not be 
fitted for life in the water. One duck said, ‘I will 
dive, and find out if there is any bottom to our lake, 
which may be brought up for this purpose.’ After 
some time she came to the surface, shot into the 
air, and fell back lifeless. The struggle had been too 
great for her strength. Several others made the same 
attempt with similar results. At last a muskrat said, 
‘I will try.” He came to the surface dead, but with 
a little earth in his claw. This encouraged others to 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. vba H | 


renewed effort, and many were successful in bringing 
up small quantities of earth. At the suggestion of 
their chief, this soil was placed upon the back of a 
turtle, who expressed his willingness to become the 
foundation of an island. Although small at first, the 
turtle grew, and finally became the foundation of the 
great continent of North America. 

‘¢'The mysterious object in the sky was coming 
more clearly into view, and at length the waterfowls, 
flying upward to meet it, found it to be a woman. 
They received her upon their outspread wings and 
landed her safely upon the earth. She began at once 
to explore her new island, and noticed that it took 
a longer time every day to walk around it. By this 
she knew it was growing in size. In course of time, 
the woman from the sky gave birth to twin boys, one 
of whom, the principle of good, was named Ha-wen- 
ni-yu, the Good Ruler; the other, the principle of 
evil, was named the Evil-Minded. 

‘Immediately after the birth of these boys the 
mother died. Ha-wen-ni-yu, the Good Ruler, said, 
‘I will take my mother’s face and make a sun; her 
shining eyes shall give light to the whole earth. Of 
her body I will make the moon.’ ‘Thus was the light 
of day and night established. From that part of the 
earth where the beautiful mother died there grew corn, 
beans, and squashes, the favorite vegetables of the 
Indians. 


232 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢ Thus far, there had been no plant or tree on the 
earth. ‘Let the grass grow!’ said Ha-wen-ni-yu, 
and at once the earth was made beautiful with the 
green grass. He then made the red willow grow on 
the wet lands and other trees and bushes for the dry 
land. He soon covered tke island with beautiful 
flowers and herbs and trees and grains and vegeta- 
bles, and many useful animals. It gave him great 
joy to do this. He also placed on the island many 
good people whom he loved. 

‘¢ When the evil-minded brother saw how powerful 
Ha-wen-ni-yu was in producing beautiful and useful 
things, he was filled with envy, and began to thwart 
him in the good work by trying to spoil everything he 
had made. He even desired to kill him, but did not 
know how. One day he asked : — 

‘¢¢ What would be fatal to you?’ 

‘¢ Ha-wen-ni-yu replied: ‘ Perhaps the cat-tail flags, 
whose leaves are so sharp, would kill me if I were 
pierced by them.’ 

‘*So the Evil-Minded took a bundle of the long 
leaves and thrust at him, but they only bent double. 
They would not harm him. 

‘¢¢ What do you fear most of all things?’ 

‘¢¢'The deer’s horn,’ answered Ha-wen-ni-yu ; ‘ it is 
so hard and sharp.’ 

‘*’Then the Evil-Minded found a cast-off deer’s horn 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 233 


and tried to thrust at him, and chased him a long way 
in the woods. 7 

‘¢ At last Ha-wen-ni-yu rebuked him sharply, and 
said, ‘You must stop this bad work. You must no 
longer spoil the good things I have made. Look at 
this crab apple! Taste of its juice! Look at these 
poisonous plants, these hideous reptiles, and these 
cruel animals which you have made. If you do not 
stop, I must punish you, for I have the power. I shall 
not destroy you; but I shall shut you up in darkness 
beneath the earth, with the hedgehog and other ani- 
mals who shun the light.’ | 

‘¢The Evil-Minded replied, ‘ I have as much power 
as you, and can make as beautiful and useful things 
if I wish.’ nats 

‘“¢¢'Try and see,’ said Ha-wen-ni-yu; ‘make a 
useful dish.’ 

‘¢The Evil-Minded went to work and made a very 
good-looking dish; but when water was put into it, it 
fell to pieces. If was useless. 

‘¢'Then Ha-wen-ni-yu took of the sand and clay and 
formed a dish. He dipped water in it and set it down. 
The dish was whole and useful. 

‘¢Qne day Ha-wen-ni-yu was walking about his 
island, and he met some giants clothed in stone. 
They were the first people that lived here, even before 
the great lake was here. We do not know how they 


234 - LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


came, nor when. One day, Ha-wen-ni-yu met a 
strange man walking about by himself. Ha-wen-ni-yu 
spoke to him pleasantly, and asked him who he 
was. ‘I am He-no, the Thunderer,’ said he, ‘and I 
should like to be employed by you in some great 
work.’ 

‘¢¢ What can you do?’ asked Ha-wen-ni-yu. 

‘¢¢T can wash the whole island,’ said he. 

‘¢¢ Very well,’ said the Good Ruler; ‘that would 
indeed be a good work, and I will employ you to do it 
for me. You may wash the island as often as you 
like.’ And this was the origin of rain. 

‘¢ One day Ha-wen-ni-yu saw a man sitting all alone 
as in a prison. His face was very old and wrinkled. 
He had a tangle of discordant sounds all about him. 

‘¢¢ Who are you?’ said the Good Ruler. 

‘*¢T am Ga-oh, the spirit of the winds,’ said he, 
‘and I want permission to do what I will on your 
island.’ 

‘¢ Ha-wen-ni-yu gave him permission under his con- 
trol, and now when he is restless you hear the rushing 
noise of the mighty wind, in the forest and on the 
sea. On his motions depend the rolling of the bil- 
lows and the fury of the tempest. He can even put 
the whirlwind in motion, and he can stop it. When 
he is quiet there is only a gentle motion, a soft, fan- 
ning breeze. Ga-oh does not always have his own 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 235 


way, but is subject to the Good Ruler, Ha-wen-ni-yu, 


and obeys his will. 

‘¢ There are other spirits who are very beautiful — 
the spirits of the corn, beans, and squashes. The 
guardian spirit of the corn is dressed in the long, 
tapering corn leaves, ornamented with the silken corn 
tassels, which are also arranged about her head in 
wreaths. The guardian spirit of the bean has her 
garments of its leaves, woven together by the delicate 
tendrils. She has upon her head a crown of the rich 
pods and blossoms. The guardian spirit of the squash 
is also clothed with the productions of the vine under 
its care. These three beautiful spirits are never sepa- 
rated, and for this reason the Indian plants the corn 
and beans and squashes in one hill. All summer 
long the three spirits flit about among the plants, 
taking care of them. But the Evil-Minded has spread 
over these vegetables his blight, and they are not as 
easy to cultivate as in the past. If you stand near 
the cornfields at night, you will hear the sweet spirit 
of the corn, in her compassion for the red man, 
bewailing her blighted fruitfulness. 

‘¢We Indians have always believed that each one 
has a protecting spirit appointed by the Good Ruler 
to take care of him; and this is also true of everything 
that is beautiful to the eye or good for food. There 
is the protecting spirit of fire, of water, of medicine ; 


236 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


of every healing herb and fruit-bearing tree; there 
is the spirit of the oak, the hemlock, the hickory, the 
maple ; the spirit of the blackberry, the blueberry, the 
whortleberry, the raspberry; the spirit of spearmint, 
peppermint, and tobacco; there is a protecting spirit 
at every fountain and by every running stream; by 
every mountain and river and lake.” 


The following lines from one of our own poets have 
reference to this habit of personifying nature, by 
these simple children of the forest : — 


TO THE SPIRIT OF THE RIVER. 


Gwe-u-gwe the lovely! Gwe-u-gwe the bright! 

Our bosoms rejoice in thy beautiful sight; 

Thou art lovely when morning breaks forth from the sky, 
Thou art lovely when noon hurls his darts from on high, 
Thou art lovely when sunset paints brightly thy brow, 
And in moonlight and starlight still lovely art thou. 


Gwe-u-gwe, Gwe-u-gwe, how sad would we be, 

Were the gloom of our forests not brightened by thee! 
Ha-wen-ni-yu would seem from his sons turned away. 
Gwe-u-gwe, Gwe-u-gwe, then list to our lay. 


Having completed the story of the creation, and 
settled the problems of good and evil, thunder and 
rain, corn, beans, and squashes, and all the good and 
useful as well as the bad and worthless, our Indian 
patriarch places another heavy section of a log on 
the fire, which has been producing marvelous pictures 


during the strange recital. This fireplace, occupying, 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 237 


as it does, one entire side of the humble cabin, would 
strike envy to the heart of the white man. A fresh 
cut from his beloved tobacco, and the old warrior 
proceeds to tell of that far-away period before 
Columbus ever dreamed of America : — 


‘¢ At that time,” said he, ‘‘ our race were wandering 
about in small bands like wild animals. They had no 
knowledge of the true God, although they did believe 
that there was one powerful being who ruled over all, 
and whom they called Ha-wen-ni-yu, the Good Ruler. 
They acknowledged him as the author of all the good 
things that came to them. They had no mode of 
worshiping him except to thank him for these good 
things. They had no knowledge of his real character 
or of his will. They were guided by their dreams in 
everything. 

‘¢ My people then clothed themselves with the skins 
of wild animals. They kindled their fires by the 
friction of a pointed stick upon a dry piece of wood, 
twirling it between their hands after the manner of 
a drill. They cooked their meat in a bark kettle, 
which they made by using a flint axe or chisel to 
‘separate the bark from an elm tree. They tied the 
large pieces of bark together at the ends with strips 
of the inner bark, making a dish large enough to hold 
the meat, with water enough to boil it. This bark 


238 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


kettle was suspended between two sticks over the fire, 
and by the time the kettle was burned through the 
meat was cooked. 

‘¢'The dishes and spoons were also made of bark. 
The wigwams were made of old bark, one end of 
which was set up against a fallen tree. The other 
end was propped up by hickory sticks. They used 
hickory for their bows and arrows, the latter being 
pointed with flint. With this weapon they killed 
game. The beds were skins of the deer and other 
animals, laid upon the ground or upon piles of hem- 
lock twigs. When so inclined, the community started 
off in the morning, and at sunset encamped as de- 
scribed, the women making a fire for the comfort of 
the little children. If the hunting was worth the 
while, they remained a few days, and even a few 
weeks. If it suited their fancy, they moved every 
day. 

‘¢In those days the Indian women had to provide 
all the wood, fetch the water, keep the fires, and do 
all the work, the men never laboring at all. The wig- 
wams were all huddled together in the encampment. 
The women had to go a long way into the woods to 
bring the fuel in bundles upon their backs. Some- 
times the snow was three feet deep. Then they used 
snowshoes. ‘These women took turns in providing 


fuel for the whole settlement, two or three working at 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 239 


it all day, only resting at noon to cook and eat. The 
men were usually lounging upon their couches of skins 
or playing upon the Indian flute. After a while they 
would get up, take their guns, and go out for game, 
killing a deer or perhaps a bear, thus providing meat 
for the household or the whole settlement. This was 
their only business. By degrees in later days the men 
began to help get in the wood, but their piles of wood 
would often run out, and a man would wait until it 
was all gone before he would bestir himself to get 
more. ‘The houses even later were made of bark. In 
my younger days I remember only two log houses. 

‘¢A matter of vital interest to my people in those 
days was the physical training of their children. 
Boys who were smart and brave naturally were 
trained to be swift runners. ‘The training began at 
the age of ten. The point selected for the race was 
one mile away. A company of little fellows were 
stripped of their clothing and when fairly started were 
pursued by an old man with a whip made of the tail 
of the fisher (a fish). If he succeeded in catching 
a boy, he plied him vigorously with the whip. The 
boys ran and dodged, he following and striking right 
and left until they were home again. If a boy suc- 
ceeded in keeping entirely out of reach of the whip, 
he was elected the boy chief. 

‘¢'The Indian boys were also trained to bear hunger 


240 . LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


and fatigue. When a little fellow reached the age of 
six years, he was awakened by this message: ‘Up! 
Go shooting birds! Don’t come back till sunset!’ 

‘¢ They trained me in that way!” said the old man, 
his rugged features lighted by a smile. ‘‘I remember 
well the morning I was six years old and aroused from 
a sound sleep by that message. I was sent out in 
the early morning without a mouthful of food, to 
shoot birds with my little bow and arrow. When I 
returned at sunset they gave me a piece of cold boiled 
corn bread and a little hominy, not enough, however, 
to satisfy the cravings of hunger. For days and 
weeks I was not permitted to taste of anything warm. 
I was thus being trained to endure the fatigue and 
hunger incident to our long excursions for hunting, 
or war with distant tribes. In winter they cut a hole 
in the ice, and in the early morning forced us to 
plunge in and dive and swim, that we might learn 
not to fear the cold.” 

This reminiscence of his childhood brought back 
other scenes, I suppose, for the old man sat gazing 
with a far-away look into the fire, quite oblivious of 
our presence. At last we gently interrupted his 
reverie by a question : — 

‘¢ Before the white man found your country, what 
did the wandering companies do with their dead?” 

The Indian started as though suddenly awakened 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 241 


from sleep, and with a gratified expression at our 
unabated interest, said, ‘‘ Let me tell you first of a 
wonderful thing that happened two hundred years ago. 

‘¢ At that time the Kah-gwas lived on the eastern 
shore of Lake Erie along the Niagara River. In 
history they are called the ‘neutral nation.’ The 
Iroquois then occupied the whole length of the state 
of New York from the Hudson River to Lake Erie. 
Two Seneca chiefs resolved to go to the Kah-gwa 
villages to see how strong they were. They found 
the warriors away on the warpath and no one at 
home but the women and children. This made them 
suspicious that the Kah-gwas proposed to make war 
upon them. They returned immediately to their own 
tribe and raised the cry, ‘Go weh! Go weh!’ to 
let the people know that the enemy was approaching. 
A large council was immediately called to adopt meas- 
ures for self-defense. ‘The principal chief proposed 
‘ that they should go out a distance from home to 
meet the enemy. He said: — 

‘¢¢ We do not want so many dead bodies to lie 
about here near our villages. It would make a bad 
odor.’ 

‘The warriors assembled at Geneva, leaving their 
women and children there, and sent out spies in every 
direction to watch the progress of the enemy. They 
discovered that there were twenty-eight tribes coming 


242 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


against them, a great multitude from the west and 
the south; they were coming even from the Rockies. 
The Iroquois warriors encamped on a hill on the 
Genesee River. The Kah-gwas and their allies came 
near and halted. The Senecas sent out demanding 
a parley, the result of which was that four sachems 
of the Senecas and four of equal rank from the enemy 
were to meet halfway up the hill. It was the cus- 
tom to smoke the long pipe together on such occa- 
sions. Four were seated on the west side of the fire 
and four on the east side, and smoked a long time 
in dignified silence. At length the principal Seneca 
sachem demanded of the other party :— 

‘¢¢ What is your business here in such great num- 
bers?’ 

‘¢ They answered, ‘ We have come to extinguish the 
Iroquois.’ 

‘¢The Seneca replied, ‘ You had better not try it. 
You will fail and a great many people will be killed 
for nothing.’ 

‘‘'The Kah-gwas answered, ‘ We are determined to 
destroy you.’ 

‘‘'This was repeated three times. As they con- 
tinued resolute and determined to fight, one of the 
Senecas arose and deliberately killed three of the 
other party. He then said to the remaining one: — 

‘¢¢Go and tell your people what you have seen. 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 243 


Tell them to go home while they may safely, and do 
not trouble us to fight you.’ 

‘* As soon as the Kah-gwa came to his friends an 
immense multitude rushed on in great fury, but the 
Troquois met them and stood the shock like men and 
soon forced them to retreat. The Senecas then called 
upon the Burnt Knives [young men], of whom-there 
was a large number hidden in the bushes, to engage 
in the fight. They came down the hill with great 
speed, armed with heavy clubs, and fought with such 
desperation that the enemy soon fled to the river, and 
many attempting to cross were drowned, while others 
were knocked on the read in the water. Very few of 
the enemy escaped the rage and fury of the Iroquois. 
The women and children and old men heard of the 
defeat of their tribes and rent the air with a how} of 
despair and grief. They had brought large piles of 
moccasins to put upon the feet of the captives they 
had expected to take, and in rage they now threw 
them away. The Senecas took a large number of the 
different tribes captive, and said to them : — 

‘¢¢ We will now do to you as you do to your cap- 
tives.’ So they took the Kah-gwa chief who had 
headed the expedition, stripped him, bound him to 
a tree, smeared his body with deer’s grease, made a 
great fire, and burned him up. Then they took 
a Chippewa chief and proceeded to treat him in the 


244 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


same manner. But when he said, ‘I was forced into 
this fight through fear of death,’ they released him 
and said to the remainder, ‘Now you may all go 


999 


home, but do not try to conquer the Iroquois again. 


And now the old face is all aglow with pride in the 
glory of the past; but in our impatience he is soon 
recalled to the humiliating present as we insist upon 
the story of the dead. 


‘¢ My people,” he continued, ‘‘ always buried their 
dead in the ground. The body was wrapped in skins, 
with a piece of bark laid above and beneath. Before 
burial the body of the dead was laid upon a piece 
of bark elevated a little from the ground. He was 
dressed in the best he had. ‘The feet were incased 
in moccasins. Some chief of his clan was appointed 
to tell of his bravery in war, his skill in hunting, his 
loyalty to his clan and tribe. He publicly mourned 
the great loss to the tribe. | 

‘¢'Then,” said he, dropping into the present tense, 
‘relatives approach the body, addressing the departed 
with significant gestures. ‘They thank and praise him 
for his kindness and virtues. They deplore his loss, 
while they know he has gone to the Happy Home 
beyond the Setting Sun. They charge him with mes- 
sages to the friends who have preceded him to the 


a 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 245 


Happy Home. After this the whole circle bursts out 
in a heart-rending wail, which continues a long time 
and then gradually dies away. The body is then 
carried to the dwelling place of each relative in turn, 
where the. same ceremony is repeated. Then the 
upper piece of bark is laid over the body and it is 
placed in the ground, lying upon the back with 
the feet toward the west. In the grave are placed 
articles of ornament, clothing, cooking utensils, 
and food, also pipes, bows and arrows, and stone 
knives. 

‘¢ After the burial a company of ten hired mourn- 
ers come to the wigwam of the departed and have a 
season of wailing with the family. Then the wailers 
go to the grave, build a fire at the head, and spend 
the night watching the grave. Early in the morning 
they return to the house of the dead and commence 
wailing there, in which they are joined by the 
family. The family feed these wailing women and 
treat them with great attention. ‘They rest and sleep 
during the day, and at night return to the grave to 
watch and wail again. This ceremony continues ten 
days. 

‘¢ During these ten days the family and relatives 
take off all ornaments and clothe themselves in the 
poorest garments they can find, even to rags. If a 
garment looks worse on the wrong side, it is worn 


246 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


wrong side out. Even the silver brooches necessary 
to fasten the clothes are put on wrong side out. The 
faces are not washed nor the hair combed. The more 
filthy and disgusting they appear the more sincere the 
grief. A more abject-looking object than the mother 
and wife of a dead man during these ten days can 
hardly be imagined. 

‘¢ At the end of the days of mourning comes the 
funeral feast, in which all the clan participate. It 
consists of the very best provisions that can be ob- 
tained. The possessions of the dead man are now 
distributed among his relatives, and each one of the 
hired mourners receives a present. 

*¢ At this feast a portion of each kind of food is set 
apart in a secret place for the use of the departed, 
who during these ten days has been constantly with 
them taking note of every expression of grief. At 
the close of the day of the feast he takes his final 
departure to the Happy Home beyond the Setting Sun. 

‘It was often the case, months and years after, 
that some friend was notified by a dream that the 
departed wished to have assurance that he was not 
forgotten. Then the friends held another feast, at 
which they recounted his virtues and reviewed their 
memories of him. At this feast the wailing and dis- 
figurement of the person were omitted and each was 
obliged to furnish a share of the provisions.” 


1 
4 
d 
J 
1 

: 

{ 

i 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 247 


Squire Johnson was tired and expressed a wish 
to be left to the solitude of his cabin, but in answer 
to our inquiry, ‘‘ What is the distinction between the 
clan and the tribe which you have made this evening?” 
he reluctantly granted us an extension of hospitalities. 

‘¢ Kach tribe of the Iroquois,” said he, ‘‘is divided 
into eight clans, known as the Wolf, Bear, Beaver, 
Turtle, Deer, Snipe, Heron, and Hawk.” 

‘¢ But what tribes do you include in the Iroquois?” 

‘¢ Your mind is very dark,” said the old man, ‘if 
you do not know about the five tribes of the powerful 
Iroquois: the Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayu- 
gas, and my own tribe, the Senecas — the wonderful 
people of the Long House.” 

‘The Long House!” I exclaimed; ‘‘ you surely 
cannot mean that all these tribes live in one house?” 

The usual attitude of dignified repose, character- 
istic of the race, gave place to a burst of laughter. 

‘*The Good Ruler,” said he, ‘‘has given us the 
night for sleep, and I will tell you about the Long 
House another evening.” f 

We were forced at last to yield to the inevitable and 
wait’ until the ‘‘ protecting spirit” of the Indian legend 
should see fit to move our friend to fresh revelations. 


After many days a messenger brought the good 


tidings that Squire Johnson would graciously enlighten 


248 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


our ignorance concerning the Long House. A ride of 
nine miles over the snow, and we were again seated 
before a roaring fire in Squire Johnson’s cabin, ready 
for further revelations. 

‘*The Long House extended,” said the old man, 
‘¢ from the Hudson River to Lake Erie; and from the 
river St. Lawrence to the Susquehanna. It was oc- 
cupied by the five tribes which I mentioned to you. 
A few years before the white man whom you call 
Columbus came here, these five tribes formed them- 
selves into a league for protection against the Indian 
tribes of the west and east and south. We were 
as one family sheltered by one roof. Each of the 
five tribes was divided into the eight clans, of which 
I told you. 

‘¢The Onondagas lived in the center of the Long 
House, on the north shore of Onondaga Lake, and 
kept the council fire always burning. This means 
that we acted together. The Mohawks lived at the 
eastern door, on the banks of the Hudson, to keep 
watch toward the rising sun. The Senecas had 
charge of the western door, which was the most im- 
portant door, because the tribes toward the setting 
sun were fierce and warlike. ‘The Oneidas and Cayu- 
gas dwelt at equal distances east and west of the 
Onondagas. This tribe, being in the center, kept the 
council brand and the wampum. ‘They also kept 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 249 


the records by the wampum belt. There were fifty 
sachemships — all the sachems having equal authority 
and ruling together over the whole. After this league 
was formed there was a great improvement in our 
habits. We did not wander away as before, and we 
raised great quantities of corn and beans and squashes.” 


This reminded us of a very old diary of a French- 
man, DeNonville, which we had noticed one day 
among other musty books in the Mission garret, and 
we afterward looked up any allusions which he made 
to this curious confederation of the people whom the 
French had named ‘ Iroquois.” This diary was 
dated 1607, and confirmed the story of the old man. 
DeNonville, who was sent by the French with a com- 
pany to fight these Indians, says he found large 
villages. In four of these villages he destroyed 
1,200,000 bushels of corn, besides great quantities 
of beans and squashes. He says they had a large 
fort fifteen miles from the present town of Rochester, 
of five hundred paces in circumference, built on a 
high place. These powerful Iroquois, or ‘* United 


People,’’ were a terror to other tribes. 


“By far Mississippi, the [lini shrank 

When the trail of the TURTLE was seen on the bank. 

On the hills of New England, the Pequod turned pale, 
When the how! of the WOLF swelled at night on the gale; 
And the Cherokee shook in his green, smiling bowers, 

When the foot of the BEAR stamped his carpet of flowers!” 


250 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


, 


‘¢ The Tuscaroras,” continued old Johnson, ‘‘ who 

had once been with us, living near Niagara Falls, had 

been driven away; but after the league was formed 

(1715) they came back and were admitted. From 

that time it has been known as the ‘ League of the 

Six Nations.’” 

The poet tells us : — 

‘“‘Naught in the woods their might could oppose, 
Naught could withstand their confederate blows. 


Banded in strength and united in soul, 
They moved in their course with the cataract’s roll.” 


‘¢ The Oneidas,” said the Indian, ‘‘ used to meet 
about a great stone. It was very large. There was 
no stone like it within one hundred miles. You may 
see the Oneida stone if you wish to in the graveyard 
at Utica.” 

‘¢ Were the Six Tribes ever called together?” 


, 


‘¢ Always,” said he, ‘‘ when there were important 
matters to be settled. It was done by ‘ runners.’ 
They were as fleet of foot as the deer. ‘Their trails 
connected village and village, clan and clan, tribe and 
tribe — and even reached to the Mississippi and Gulf 
of Mexico; and they also reached to the Atlantic 
Ocean and the northern lakes.” 

‘¢ Johnson,” said I, ‘*do you think the trails of 
those tribes are our great streets and railroads now?” 


‘‘T know they are,” said he; ‘‘ the trail was a foot- 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 251 


path at first, just wide enough for one person, but. 
they were used by so many people that they were 
worn several inches deep.” 

‘© My brother!” I exclaimed, in a burst of enthu- 
siasm, ‘‘ it is true indeed, as has been said: ‘ Not by 
our great thoroughfares alone will your race be re- 
membered. Your expressive and beautiful names are 
upon every hillside, in every valley; in the foaming 
cataract and upon our beautiful lakes.’ 


‘Your name is in our waters, 
We may not wash it out.” 


Not understanding one word of this outburst the 
Indian received it without demonstration, and silently 
awaited the next question. 

‘¢ About the ‘runners,’ Johnson; did one runner 
notify all the tribes?” 

‘¢No,” said he. ‘‘If anything happened in either 
tribe that required the advice of the assembled 
sachems and people, a runner was sent to the tribe 
nearest, and that one sent a messenger to the next, 
and so on until all the six tribes had been notified. 
Do you understand?” he asked. ‘* Suppose the Sen- 
ecas wished the council called. The sachems of the 
Senecas had to meet first and decide whether the 
matter was of sufficient importance. If it was, then 
they sent. a runner with a wamnum belt to the Cayu- 


252 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


gas. The Cayugas sent the wampum belt to the 
} Onondagas, these to the Oneidas, and the Oneidas 
to the Mohawks. Then the sachems and chiefs and 
warriors, with the women and children, gathered about 
the council fire, coming from the farthest points of 
the Long House, heeding no toil or danger in their 
zeal for the common welfare.” 

‘¢Of what was the wampum belt made?” 

‘¢Of small shells strung upon strings of deerskin. 
The belt was made of several strings woven together ; 
some were black, emblem of war; some white, em- 
blem of peace. They treasured up speeches and 
events by the belt. ‘This belt preserves my words’ 
was a common expression. The orator associated 
each part of the speech with a portion of the string. 
No notice was taken of any messenger or of his mes- 
sage unless he could produce the wampum belt.” 

‘¢One more question to-day, Johnson; what is the 
‘calumet of peace’ that we read about?” 

‘+ That was a very sacred symbol,” said the old 
man, ‘‘among my people. It was a pipe made of 
red stone finely polished. The quill was two feet 
and a half long, made of a strong reed. The red 
calumets were often trimmed with white, yellow, and 
green feathers.” 


This calumet we found out later was a flag of truce 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 253 


among Indian tribes, and a violation of it as disgrace- 
ful as an insult to the white flag among civilized 


peoples. 


‘¢ Whilst high he lifted in his hand 
The sign of peace, the calumet; 
So sacred to the Indian soul, 
With its stem of reed and its dark red bowl 
Flaunting with feathers, white, yellow, and green.” 


The old warrior was in a good mood this evening, 
and volunteered an extra crumb of information. 

‘¢' You may remember I told you that each tribe had 
eight clans: the Wolf, Bear, Beaver, Turtle, Deer, 
Snipe, Heron, and Hawk. It is the same with us 
now; and no son or daughter of any clan is allowed 
to marry a person of his clan in any tribe. A Deer 
of the Senecas may marry a Turtle of his own or 
any Other tribe. But a Wolf may not marry a Wolf 
or a Bear a Bear. The children belong to the clan 
of the mother. If she is a Deer, then all her children 
are Deer. ‘They not only call her mother, but they 
call all her sisters mother, and they call all her sisters’ 
children brothers and sisters. This is the reason they 
do not marry in their own clan. The children belong 
to the tribe of the mother as do the children’s children 
to the latest generation. If a Cayuga mother marries 
a Seneca father, the children are Cayugas. If the 
marriage prove unhappy, the parties are allowed to 


254 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


separate, and each is at liberty to marry again. But 
the mother has the sole right to the disposal of the 
children.” 

This talk about marriage reminded us of the In- 
dian’s reply to the white man who criticized the mat- 
rimonial methods of that race: ‘‘ You marry squaw ; 
she know you always keep her, so she scold, scold, 
scold, and not cook your venison. I marry squaw, 
and she know I not keep her if she not good. So 
she not scold, but cook my venison, and always pleas- 
ant; we live long together.” 

The offices of sachems, chiefs, etc., were inherited in 
the line of the mothers. It would seem that women 
were treated with respect in those days. The emblem 
of power was a deer’s antlers, and if the women disap- 
proved of the acts of a sachem, they had the power to 
remove his horns and restore him ito private life. 

It is not recorded that the women ever abused their 
privileges. They never meddled with that which did 
not belong to them. They never manifested a desire 
to become warriors or sachems. They planted corn, 
dressed deerskins, worked wampum belts, wrought 
porcupine embroidery for centuries without a mur- 
mur! These Indians say to-day : — 

‘¢' The Long House belonged to the warriors who 
defended it and to the women who tilled it, and if 
it had not been for the fire water which degraded the 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 255 


men and left them to be easily bribed to make treaties 
contrary to the rules of the people and the judgment 
of their best men and all their women, the glory of 
the Iroquois would not have faded away.” 

During our ride home that night we resolved to ask 
Mr. Parker, the United States Interpreter, this ques- 
tion: ‘* Who were the Kah-gwas?” for the old Indian 
had mentioned a tribe of whom not even Mrs. Wright 
had heard before. We give his reply for the benefit 
of any curious reader : — 


‘¢The Kah-gwas,” said Mr. Parker, ‘‘ were a tribe 
of Indians who emigrated from the south and west 
untold years ago and settled near the foot of Lake 
Erie. We find traces of their mounds and fortifica- 
tions near the shore of the lake. They grew in 
strength and became very numerous. Then they be- 
came proud and challenged the Senecas to a national 
wrestling match. 

‘¢The Senecas accepted the challenge and with 
twelve picked athletes met the Kah-gwas on their 
own grounds. The condition of the match was that 
whoever was vanquished should be immediately dis- 
patched by the victor. The Kah-gwas were defeated. 
The tribe was indignant and decided to exterminate 
the Senecas. A large company of Kah-gwa women, 
laden with immense packs of moccasins with which 


256 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


to shoe the captives who were to be so easily taken, 
joined the expedition against the Senecas. 

‘¢ But the Senecas, ever on the alert, discovered the 
plan of their enemies and prepared to meet them. 
Not believing it the best policy to await the attack, 
they marched to meet the foe. The young‘ braves 
were put in the advance and the middle-aged men in 
the rear. The tribes met in Livingston County, upon 
a stream near Honeoye Lake, and there the fiercest 
battle ever fought by Indians took place. The foes 
for four successive days swayed back and forth over 
the stream until it literally flowed with blood. 

‘¢The Kah-gwas, finding themselves nearly exter- 
minated, retreated to their homes; from thence to 
the Alleghany River, down that stream to near Pitts- 
burgh, where they encamped for the night. A few 
of the Seneca braves followed their trail until they 
discovered their enemies. Being very few in number, 
the Senecas resorted to strategy to deceive the foe. 
They floated down, passed the encampment, until out 
of sight, then landed their canoes, transported them 
across the point of land above the camp, and floated 
down again. | They went through this operation again 
and again until midnight, and then encamped for the 
night. The trick had its effect. Before daylight the 
Kah-gwas fled to parts unknown and no vestige of 
them has been seen to this day.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 257 


It was an evening co spring. Our story-teller,. 
Johnson, was visiting us at the Mission. ‘*The 
sound of the frog which we hear to-night,” said the 
old man, ‘‘reminds me of a strange thing that hap- 
pened long ago: — 

‘¢TIn one of the raids of the Senecas upon the Cher- 
okees a brave Seneca warrior was taken prisoner. It 
was the custom of the southern Indians to put their 
prisoners to death by burning ; not so with the Iroquois. 
Well, these Cherokees had a long account to settle with 
this prisoner, for he had slain many of their people. 
They at last determined that he should be burned. 
They had a place prepared for such purpose. In the 
midst was an elevation so that all the people could see 
where the prisoner was bound to the post. The time 
was fixed and a great multitude assembled. The Sen- 
eca warrior was bound firmly to a post and the fagots 
piled up around him. ‘The fire was kindled into a blaze, 
the flames circled around him and burned him about 
the mouth and chest and legs and feet; but just 
then there was a terrible clap of thunder, the rain 
poured down, the people fled to their wigwams, the 
fire was extinguished, and the darkness of the shower 
was followed by the darkness of the night. They 
supposed he was so firmly bound that escape was 
impossible and did not take the trouble to look after 


him. 


258 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢ Pretty soon the prisoner began to feel green frogs 
crawling and squirming upon his burned feet and 


ankles and creeping up so as to cover the burned. 


places all over his body. This relieved him so much 
that he could move a little and was soon able to release 
his feet. The next effort was to slip the bands from 
his hands. But when released he found he could not 
walk ; so he crept away into the woods and finding a 
hollow log crawled in and concealed himself. At dawn 
of day the Cherokees missed him and sent scouts in 
every direction to hunt him up. ‘They surrounded his 
log without discovering him. 

‘¢ The green frogs followed him into the log; all day 
long they were busy relieving his burns. At night 
he crawled out and, not yet being able to walk, crept 


again as far as he could to another hollow log. Here 


again the frogs came to his relief and so nearly cured 
him that the next night he was able to walk and soon 
found himself beyond reach of his pursuers. But he 
did not leave his reptile friends without expressing 
to them his thanks. The frogs said, ‘ We are only 
repaying your kindness to us, for whenever you no- 
ticed that a snake had caught us by the legs and heard 
our squeal for help, you always killed the snake and 
let us go free. And it is in gratitude for this that 
we have followed you and given you the healing power 


2.92 


of our bodies. 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 259 


‘¢ And now,” continued the old man, ‘‘ you shall 
hear how there came to be peace between the Iroquois 
and their enemies, the Cherokees. I have the story 
from one who was present at the council fire : — 

‘¢ Upon a certain occasion a large number of Iroquois 
warriors started on a long journey for the Cherokee 
country. On the way they sang the night and morn- 
ing war songs to secure success to the expedition. 
The night song was sung in the place of encampment ; 
the morning song was sung by the leader of the march 
as they started again upon the journey. They had 
other songs which were used upon their arrival at 
their destination. When they arrived at the enemy’s 
country, knowing that the Cherokees were always on 
the lookout, they stopped upon a distant high hill 
overlooking one of the villages of the plain. At 
night they came cautiously down and surprised the vil- 
lage, killing all the inhabitants and burning the houses. 

‘During the night the Cherokees of another settle- 
ment heard the cry of alarm —‘ Go weh! go weh!’! 
but when they came to the thick bushes it stopped. 
They could see nothing, but they sent two men to lie 
in wait and discover what it meant. By-and-by these 
men heard the cry again—‘Goweh! goweh!’ As 


1 Go weh is an exclamation signifying that some great calamity has 
befallen a war party, or some distinguished sachem has fallen. It is 
said that this exclamation has such a charm that it can be heard for 
miles before the runner or messenger has reached a settlement. This 
word is used only on such occasions as the above. — NV. H. Parker. 


260 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


they came near they saw a hedgehog approaching who 
stopped and stood upon his hind feet and cried out, 
‘Go weh! go weh!’ They killed the hedgehog and 
went back to tell their people. 

‘¢ The Cherokees were alarmed and sent at once to 
see what had befallen the neighboring village. They 
found it burned and the people slain. Not one had 
escaped to tell the story. They looked for traces of 
the enemy, and discovered five paths all converging 
on the hill and a wigwam marked with black paint. 
Then they said, ‘It is our old enemy, the Iroquois.’ 

‘¢ They sent messengers to notify their people of 
what had happened and called a general council. The 
chiefs came together and the question was laid before 
them: ‘What shall we do? At this rate our enemy 
will soon exterminate us.’ One chief said, ‘I can 
see but one course for us, and that is to make peace 
with the Iroquois.’ The others answered, ‘ We will 
do it.’ 

‘¢ Accordingly they sent four men to the Iroquois 
telling them of their proposition of peace and asked 
to have it done at the Cherokee council. The Iroquois 
consented and decided that a large company should 
go armed for any emergency or treachery on the part 
of the Cherokees. And so a large band of the Iro- 
quois arrived at the Cherokee country fully armed, 
arrayed in all their gorgeous costume of feathers, 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 261 


beads, paint, etc., in order that their large numbers 
and imposing appearance might lead the Cherokees to 
suppose that they were not obliged to make peace, but 
simply consented to their request as an act of conde- 
scension. On taking their seats in council and receiv- 
ing the pipe of peace the Cherokee chief said to them: 

‘¢¢Tt is our wish to make peace if possible. We 
are exceedingly anxious that this war should cease.’ 

‘¢ A distinguished Seneca sachem replied, ‘ We are 
willing on our part, only we wish all grievances to be 
buried, and buried so deep that not one shall ever 
come above ground again; but if from any cause difli- 
culties should arise and trouble show itself again, we 
will do then as we have done now; we will bury it so 
deep that it can never even sprout again, and I for my 
part promise, and I will keep it, that when our troubles 
are buried and we are at peace again I will not heed 
any proposals from other nations to break our peace 
with you. If one from another tribe shall come and 
entice me to join with him in war upon you, I will not 
be tempted by him. I will maintain our covenant 
with you.’ 

‘¢ The Cherokee chief replied: ‘I will do so too. If 
any of the neighboring nations shall say to me, ‘ Come, 
let us exterminate the Iroquois!’ I will refuse. I will 
only look to and strictly observe the covenant which 


we are now making.’ 


> 


262 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢ After full discussion both parties declared them- 
selves satisfied and proceeded to shake hands in rati- 
fication of friendship. ‘The Cherokees took hold with 
the right hand of the hand of the Iroquois and each 
reaching forward the left hand grasped the shoulder 
of the other, thus pledging permanent fidelity to the 
compact. This was their custom, and this mode of 
shaking hands made the promise securely binding. 
The Senecas said : — 

‘¢¢ Henceforth we will be brethren as if of one 
blood.’ ; 
‘¢ The Cherokee added, ‘ If one of your people shall 
come here and wish to be at home with us, and desire 
to marry among us and become a Cherokee, he may do 
so. Now this agreement is enforced this day.’ 

‘¢ When all parties were satisfied the Cherokee chief 
said, ‘ It is finished ; and now let us have sport together. 
We have a swift runner who beats all the rest of our 
people. Let us have a foot race.’ The race was 
about twenty rods. A Seneca volunteered to run 
with the Cherokee and defeated him. This is the 
last important war of the Iroquois with the western 


Indians.” 


The next morning Johnson gave us a reminiscence 
of his boyhood. ‘* When I was a boy ten years old, 
I lived with my grandfather. A chief of the Cayugas 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 263 


came to visit him. One day I was sitting on a log 
where this chief had called a council. I heard him 
say these words : — 

‘¢¢]T have called you together to take into consider- 
ation the condition of our people. We are losing all 
our Indian traits and privileges and we cannot per- 
petuate them, and we can do nothing to prevent this 
change. The whites will overpower us. We sided 
with the British against these whites and the British 
are overcome, and the whites will drive us before them 
if we continue our Indian mode of living. We can- 
not go west; the Indians there will consider us in- 
truders and will drive us back. What shall we do? 
My judgment is that we must stay where we are and 
adapt ourselves to the coming changes. We must 
adopt the white man’s life. We must give up our old 
ways. We must drop our pagan feasts and dances. 
We must learn to work like the white man, and get 
our living from the soil. We must wear clothes like 
a white man. We must have our children educated. 
We must adopt the religion of the white man. There 
is nothing left for us to do. There is no other help 
remaining. We shall soon lose everything peculiar to 
the Indian. We cannot live unless we endure these 
changes and become like the white man.’ 

‘*The chief was silent. My grandfather then 
spoke : — 


264 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢¢]T will add to these words. What has been said 
is true, but we do not yet see this change. My grand- 
son, who sits there on the log, will perhaps live to see 
it accomplished, but we old men are yet free and will 
probably die as we are. Still it is coming to our 
children, and we cannot prevent it. We have lost our 
power. We must let these old things all go which we 
have prized so highly: our painted faces, our tufts of 
feathers, our ornaments in the laps of our ears, our 
dances and ceremonies must all disappear. But these 
things must go because they are not of the Good 
Ruler. They are the contrivance of man, who pre- 
tended that the Good Ruler ordained them. This is 
not so. If it were, these things could not be destroyed 
by man. It is the human works that perish. No 
man can destroy what the Good Ruler ordains. Our 
Indian customs, rights, and ceremonies perish because 
he did not appoint them. They are mortal— the work 
of man. The Good Ruler could have kept the whites 
from crossing the ocean if it had been his will, and 
would have done so to preserve us and our customs if 
they had been ordained by him. But he chose to 
bring the white man here and to let us fall and perish 
before him because our way was not his way. And 
thus it is true that our fate is inevitable. We cannot 
prevent it. Before the white man came here, while 
we were yet alone in this country, we had nothing with 


= 
i 


THE MYSTERIOUS PAST. 265 


which to help ourselves. We made no progress. We 
made no improvement in our condition. They came 
here, and brought the flint and steel for striking fire. 
It was a good thing. They brought knives and axes; 
we liked them; and we liked their guns; and we 
have been glad to use all their improvements. They 
brought money here, and we have been glad to get it. 
We have begun, through their help, to make progress, 
but they are all about us and we cannot stand up 
against them. We must adopt these other things 
which they bring, some of which we shall also find 
good for us. Their books and learning are good. 
Their laws are good for us as well as for them. Per- 
haps we shall like their religion. It will be better for 
us to embrace it. It will not avail us to resist and 
provoke them. If we are good, they will treat us 
kindly and we can remain where we are. Brothers, let 
us beware of one thing the white man has brought 
here. Let us beware of his strong drink. We have 
seen how that often causes death. If we use it, it 
will certainly destroy us. Let us be good and peace- 
able, and adopt all the good ways of the white man 
and avoid his evil ways. Thus only will it be well 
with us.’ } 
‘¢ Another chief arose, and said: ‘ My brother’s 
words are true. He has spoken like a prophet. His 
words will come to pass. ‘This boy on the log will 


266 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


live to see it. The things which the white man brings 
to us are as good for us as for him. It will be for our 
advantage to make use of them. Let us adopt the 
religion and customs of the white man that we may 
be preserved when no power is left us for maintaining 
the old ways of our forefathers.’ 

‘¢ T often wonder,” said Johnson, ‘‘ at the foresight 
and wisdom of these old men and at the exact ful- 
fillment of their predictions. They spoke from the 
heart and the people felt that their words were true.” 


J WAMPUM BELT. 


SHOULD the Indian be entirely banished from this land the 
memory of him cannot die. 

Their names are on our waters, 
We cannot wash them out. 

The dialects of the Six Nations of the Iroquois resemble each 
other, although there are differences which mark them as distinct. 
The Mohawk and Oneida strongly resemble each other, as do the 
Seneca and Cayuga. The Onondaga is considered by the Iroquois 
as the most finished and majestic, while to our ears it is the most 
harsh and the Oneida the most musical. In Mohawk the sound of 
lis prominent and in Tuscarora the sound of 7. The Senecas and 
Cayugas ean talk all day without shutting their lips, and there are 
no oaths in their language. Metaphors are in constant use in the 
speeches and conversation of the Indian. When the weather is 
very cold he says, *‘ It is a nose-cutting morning!” of an emaciated 
person, ‘‘ He has dried bones”; a steamboat is ‘‘ the ship impelled 
by fire”; a horse is ‘‘a log carrier”; a cow is ‘‘a cud chewer.” 
In old times they kept warm by covering themselves with boughs 
of hemlock, and now if an Indian is about to repair his cabin he 
says, *‘I will surround it with hemlock boughs,” meaning, ‘‘I will 
make it warm and comfortable.” When a chief has made a speech 
he finishes with saying, ‘‘The doors are now open, you ¢an pro- 
ceed.”’ The Iroquois call themselves ‘‘ the older people,” and the 
white man ‘ our younger brother.” 


THE Seneca sachems used to plead with the governors of colonies 
to prevent the sale of fire water to the Indians. This was their 
plea: ‘‘ It destroys our old and young. We have great fear of it. 
Our hearts tremble, our minds are deeply concerned. We entreat 
you, forbid the sale of this poison to our people! ” 


Zz 
eS 


Zz 
EEE 


Zt 


P< 


typo 7 |; 
rae 


RED JACKET. 


ee ae ee ae. lf a Pe ea Ae a 


7 4 a 
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J * * Ls 
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cea 
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XV. 
INDIAN ELOQUENCE. 


T may be of interest at this point to give a few 
specimens of the old-time Iroquois eloquence, as 
compared with Iroquois eloquence to-day. 

In 1805 a missionary came to the Iroquois and 
asked permission to teach them his religion. A coun- 
cil was called to decide whether he should be received. 
He was invited to state his plan and to explain his 
religion. Red Jacket made the following reply : — 

‘¢ Friend and Brother: It was the will of the Good 
Ruler that we should meet together this day. He has 
taken his garment from before the sun and caused it 
to shine with brightness upon us. For this we thank 
him. 

-*¢ Brother: This council fire was kindled for you. 
We have listened in silence to what you have said. 
You ask us to speak our minds freely. We stand 
ready before you to speak what we think. We speak 
as one man. | 

‘¢ Brother: Listen to our words. There was a 
time when our forefathers owned this land. Their 
seats extended from the rising to the setting sun. 

269 


270 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Ha-wen-ni-yu made this land for the use of the 
Indian. He created the buffalo, the deer, and other 
animals for our food; he made for us the bear and 
the beaver; their skins served us for clothing. He 
caused the earth to produce corn for our bread. All 
this he did for his red children because he loved 
them. But an evil day came upon us; your fore- 
fathers crossed the great water and landed here. 
Their numbers were small. ‘They found in us friends, 
not enemies. ‘They told us they had fled from their 
own country because of wicked men, and had come 
here to enjoy their religion. They asked us for a 
small seat. We took pity on them — granted their re- 
quest; they sat down among us. We gave them corn 
and meat. In return they gave us— poison [rum]! 

‘¢ Brother: The white people had now found our 
country. Tidings were carried back and more white 
people came, yet we did not fear them. They called 
us brothers, and we believed them to be friends. 
At length their numbers had greatly increased; they 
wanted more land; they wanted our whole country. 
Our eyes were opened and our minds became uneasy. 
Wars took place. The white people hired the Indians 
to fight against each other, and many of our people 
were thus destroyed. The white people brought to us 
the fire water. It was strong and powerful, and has 
slain thousands. 


INDIAN ELOQUENCE. 271 


‘¢ Brother: Our seats here were once large and 
yours were small. You are now a great people, and 
we have scarcely a place left to spread our blankets. 
You have got our country, but you are not satisfied. 
You now wish to force your religion upon us. 

‘¢ Brother: Continue to listen. You are here to 
instruct us how to worship the Good Ruler according 
to his mind. You say you are right and we are lost. 
How do we know that your words are true? You say 
your religion is written in a Book. If the Book was 
intended for us too, why did not Ha-wen-ni-yu give 
the book to our forefathers? We know only what 
you tell us about this Book. How shall we know - 
when to believe you who have so often deceived us? 

‘¢ Brother: You say there is only one way to wor- 
ship the Good Ruler; then why do the white people 
differ so much about this way? As the Book was sent 
to you and you can all read it, why do you not all 
agree ? 

‘¢ Brother: We do not understand these things. 
You tell us that your religion was given to your fore- 
fathers, and has been handed down from father to 
son. Our religion was given to our forefathers and 
has been handed down from father to son. It teaches 
us to be thankful for what we receive; to love each 
other and to be united. We have never quarreled 


about our religion. 


272 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


‘¢ Brother: You tell us that you have been preach- 
ing to white people in this land. We will wait a 
while and see what your religion does for them. If 
it makes them honest, if they tell the truth, and no 
longer cheat the Indian, we will consider again these 
words that you have said. 

‘*‘ Brother: Now we will part; we take you by the 
hand and hope the Good Ruler will protect you on 
your journey and return you safe to your friends.” 


From the same remarkable orator is the following : — 

‘¢ We first knew you, a little feeble plant, which 
wanted a little of our earth on which to grow. We 
gave it to you, and when we could have trod you 
under our feet we watered and protected you. Now 
you have grown to be a mighty tree, whose top reaches 
the clouds, whose branches overspread the whole land ; 
while we who were once the tall pine of the forest 
have become the little feeble plant, needing your pro- 
tection. When you first came here you clung around 
our knee and called us father. We took you by the 
hand and called you brother. You have grown so 
great that we can no longer reach up to your hand, 
but we now cling around your knee and beg to be 
called your children.” 


A lady, who knew that Red Jacket had lost several 


a 


INDIAN ELOQUENCE. 273 


children, asked if he had any living. He fixed his 
eyes upon her with a mournful expression and re- 
plied : — 

‘‘Red Jacket was once a great man and in favor 
with Ha-wen-ni-yu. He was a lofty pine among the 
small trees of the forest; but after years of glory he 
degraded himself by drinking the fire water of the 
white man. Ha-wen-ni-yu has looked upon him in 
anger, and his lightning has stripped the lofty pine of 
all its branches.” 


Red Jacket gave these last instructions to his 
daughter : — 

‘¢ When I am dead it will be noised abroad through 
all the world, ‘Red Jacket, the Indian orator, is 
dead!’ White men will come and ask you for my 
body. Do not let them take me. Put upon me my 
simplest dress ; put on my leggins and my moccasins, 
and hang the cross which I have worn so long around 
my neck and let it lie upon my bosom.! Then bury 
me among my people. ‘The missionary who has come 
here says the dead will rise; perhaps they will; if 
they do, I wish to rise with my Indian friends. I do 
not wish to rise among pale faces. I wish to be sur- 
rounded by red men.” 

After these words Red Jacket laid himself upon his 


1This large cross, which he always wore, was a very rich one of 
stones setin gold. No one knew by whom it was given to him. 


274 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


couch and never rose again. He lived several days 
but was most of the time in a stupor. Occasionally 
he would unconsciously utter, ‘‘I do not hate the 
missionary ; he thinks I hate him, but I do not. I 
would not hurt him although he accused me of being 
a snake and trying to bite somebody. This was true, 


but now I wish to repent of it.” 


Chief Logan was another noted Indian orator. 

In 1774 a deputation was sent from the govern- 
ment to treat with the sachems and chiefs of the 
Iroquois, and to endeavor to appease their revenge 
upon their oppressors, the white people. Chief Lo- 
gan was a long time in yielding. He would not talk 
with the white men of peace. At last he said : — 

‘¢ There is no hope for the Indian but to flee before 
the white man who oppresses him; but I will never be 
his friend.” 

General Gleason followed Logan into the depths of 
the forest, and there, seated upon a fallen tree, with 
the aid of Cornstalk, a venerable chief, he was at 
last induced to sign the treaty, which all the other 
sachems had signed. But before he did it he uttered 
the following heart-rending story of his wrongs and 
the wrongs of his people. It was like wringing out 
his heart’s blood to see them thus wasting away, and 
while he said these words the tears ran down his fur- 


INDIAN ELOQUENCE. 2795 
rowed cheeks and he seemed to be a victim of in- 
tense suffering : — 

baa E appeal to any white man to say if he ever 
entered Logan’s cabin hungry and he gave him no 
meat; if he ever came to him cold and naked, and he 
gave him no clothes. During that long and bloody 
war, Logan remained in his cabin urging his people to 
peace. Such was my love for the white man that my 
people pointed as they passed, and said in scorn, 
‘Logan is the friend of the white man.’ 

‘¢ Last spring, Colonel Cresap, in cold blood — un- 
provoked — murdered all the relatives of Logan. He 
did not even spare my women and my children. 
There runs not one drop of my blood in any living 
creature. This called on me for revenge. I have 
sought it; I have killed many white men. I have fully 
elutted my vengeance for my race; I rejoice at the 
beams of peace, but do not. harbor a thought that 
mine is the joy of fear. Logan never knew fear. 
He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who 
is there left on this earth to mourn for Logan? Not 
one!” 

This man wandered about for many years from set- 
tlement to settlement, restless, moody, and unhappy, 
and finally laid himself down in the woods to die of a 
broken heart. Very truly Jefferson remarks, ‘‘ There 
were none left to mourn for Logan, but his talents and 


276 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


his misfortunes have attached to him the respect and 
commiseration of the world.” 

These extracts are taken from addresses given in 
English by educated Indians, who during my mission- 
ary life were still living among their people. The 
following was made before the Historical Society of 
New York by Peter Wilson, a Cayuga. ‘The Cayugas, 
who had been driven from the ‘‘ Long House” (New 
York State) and sent beyond the Mississippi River, 


were reduced to such extreme suffering that many of | 


them died in less than a year. Peter Wilson obtained 
ten thousand dollars for the purpose of bringing back 
the remainder, five hundred of which was given by 
a Quaker in Baltimore. 

‘¢The honorable gentleman has told you that the 
Iroquois have no monuments. Do you not know that 
the Empire State, as you love to call it, was once laced 
by our trails from Albany to Buffalo—trails worn 
so deep by the foot of the Iroquois that they have 
become your own roads of travel? Your roads bind 
one part of the Long House to the other. The Empire 
State, then, is our monument, and we wish its soil to 
rest above our bones when we shall be no more. We 
shall not occupy much room in living ; we shall occupy 
less when we are gone; a single tree of the thousands 
which sheltered our fathers — one old elm under which 
the representatives of the tribes were wont to meet— 


es 


INDIAN ELOQUENCE. 277 


will cover us all. But we would have our bodies 
twined in death among its roots on the very soil where 
it grew. Perhaps it will last the longer from being 
thus fertilized. 

‘¢ Have we, the first holders of this prosperous 
region, no longer a share in your history? Glad were 
your forefathers to sit down upon the threshold of the 
Long House; rich did they then hold themselves in 
getting the mere sweepings from its doors. Had our 
forefathers spurned you from this end of our house 
when the French were thundering at the opposite end 
to get a passage through to drive you into the sea, 
whatever has been the fate of other Indians, the 
Iroquois might still have been a nation; [—I—in- 
stead of pleading here for the privilege of lingering 
within your borders, —I—I—even I— might have 
had —a country !” 


M. B. Pierce, a chief of the Senecas, gave utter- 
ance to the following : — 

‘¢Tt has been said, and frequently repeated, that 
it is the doom of the Indian to disappear—to van- 
ish like the morning dew, before the advance of 
civilization. 

‘¢ But why are we thus doomed? Why must we be 
crushed by the arm of civilization? Why must the 
requiem of our race be chanted by the waves of the 


278 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


Pacific, which is destined at last to engulf us? Say, 
you, into whose lap fortune has poured her brimful 
horn so that you enjoy the highest and best of spiritual 
and temporal blessings, should some superior race, to 
whom you open the hospitality of your dwellings, 
claim the right to your possessions — the right to hunt 
you like wild beasts from your long-anticipated doom, 
how ready would you be to be taught of them? How 
cordially would you open your minds to the conviction 
that they would not deceive you further and still more 
fatally, in their proffers of pretended kindness? How 
much friendship for them and esteem for their man- 
ners and customs would you feel? Would not the 
milk of human kindness in your breast be turned to 
the gall of hatred toward them? I believe that every 
person who hears me to-day wonders that the hatred 
of the Indian has not burned with tenfold fury against 
the white man, rather than that they have not laid 
aside their own habits and religion to adopt those 
of this civilized nation. Blot out these terrible 
pages of your nation’s history in connection with our 
people before you rise up to call the Indian treacher- 
ous or cruel. 
‘¢ Tell me whether 


The poor Indian, whose untutored mind 
Sees God in clouds and hears him in the wind, 


is not capable by cultivation of rationally compre- 


INDIAN ELOQUENCE. 279 


hending the true God, whose pavilion is the clouds, 
and who yet giveth grace to the humble? 

‘¢T ask, then, in behalf of the New York Indians, 
that our white brethren will not urge us to do that 
which justice, humanity, religion, not only do not 
require, but condemn. Let us live where our fathers 
lived, that we who are converted heathen may be made 
meet for that inheritance which our Father hath prom- 
ised to give his Son, our Saviour; so that the deserts 
and waste places may be made to blossom like the 
rose, and the inhabitants thereof utter forth the high 
praises of our God. 

‘¢ Let me tell you our condition when the pale faces 
landed on the eastern shores of this great island. 
Our government then, many centuries ago, was 
remarkable for its wisdom, and adapted to the condi- 
tion of our nation. It was a republican and powerful 
democratic government, in which the will of the peo- 
ple ruled. No policy or enterprise was ever carried 
out by the council of the Grand Sachems of the Con- 
federacy of the Long House without the sanction and 
ratification of the people, and it was necessary that it 
should receive the consent of every one of the Six 
Tribes. The consent of the warriors alone was not 
deemed sufficient, but the women, the mothers of the 
nation, were also consulted. By this means the path 
of the wise sachems was made clear; their hands 


280 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


were strong, their determinations resolute, knowing 
that they had the unanimous support of their great 
constituency. Hence the confederacy of the Iroquois 
became great and strong, prosperous and happy; by 
their wisdom they became statesmen, warriors, diplo- 
mats; by their valor and skill in the warpath they 
became formidable; they conquered and subdued 
many tribes, and extended their territory. 

‘¢ Our territory, which once required the fleetest run- 
ners to traverse, is now spanned by the human voice. 
Our possessions are so reduced that now when we put 
the seed of the melon into the earth it sprouts, and its 
tender vine trails along the ground until it trespasses 
upon the lands of the pale face.” 


aan ong wali 


Thus the birch canoe was builded 
In the valley, by the river, 
In the bosom of the forest. 


—Longfellow’s Hiawatha. 


XVI. 
‘6 A WEDDING LIKE WHITE PEOPLE.” 


EVENTEEN happy years of missionary life with 

Mrs. Wright among these Indians — and the call 

came to return to the New England home and friends, 

and enter a new life as the wife of a business man, 

Lemuel E. Caswell, of Boston. When the plans were 

nearly matured they were made known to the unsus- 
pecting Indians. 

‘¢'This cannot be!” they said. ‘* Your father, the 
man with two pairs of eyes” (he wore spectacles), 
‘¢ brought you here when you were a young girl. He 
gave you tous. We have adopted you into our tribe 
— you belong to our Deer clan. You belong to us — 
and you have not asked our consent!” 

After considerable discussion the announcement 
was made that they would feel satisfied if the ‘Wwed- 
ding ceremony might be performed on the Reservation, 
exactly as it would be in Boston, that they might see 
‘¢a real wedding.” Consent was given to this, pro- 
vided the bridegroom elect did not object. Contrary 
to expectation, the bridegroom was greatly taken with 
the novel plan, and promised to come to the Indians, 

281 


282 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


and bring with him a company of friends. This 
company included the late Lawson Valentine, pub- 
lisher of The Christian Union, and his wife; the late 
B. F. Whittemore and wife, of Boston; Dr. J. B. 
Clark, of Boston, with other relatives and friends. 
The party came within nine miles of the Reservation 
by rail, and at two o’clock in the morning were met 
by Indians who had volunteered their teams and serv- 
ices to bring them into Indian land. The procession 
made its way through dense woods, over indescribable 
roads, in darkness which could be felt; but, although 
some of the ladies were a little ‘‘ nervous,” they bore 
this bit of pioneering with commendable fortitude. 
The city pale faces were entertained at the Mission 
House and Orphan Asylum, and heroically adapted 
themselves to the accommodations at hand. On the 
day following their arrival they were taken by their 
Indian charioteers to the various out-stations, to the 
pagan dance house and its surrounding cabins, and 
to the well-tilled farms and comfortable houses of 
the Christian Indians. A pagan chief offered Mr. 
Valentine two cows, three pigs, twelve strings of 
corn, and a cabin, if he would remain. A _ similar 
offer was made to Mr. Caswell. 

On the Sabbath, the party attended the Mission 
church in the forenoon and visited the out-stations 


among the pagans in the afternoon. 


CO 


“4 WEDDING LIKE WHITE PEOPLE.” 283 


Mr. Caswell had secured a hack from a town thirty 
miles away for the comfort of the guests who were 
unable to endure the rough wagons. This hack, 
including team and driver, became the center of 
attraction upon the Reservation. 

The wedding ceremony was to take place on Mon- 
day evening. The Indian committee of arrangements 
consisted of a Bible class of thirty young men, who 
from boyhood had known no teacher but the one now 
leaving them forever. These young men spent the 
day decorating the walls of the Mission church with 
boughs of the hemlock and clusters of red _ berries. 
The effect was very artistic and the guests watched 
these children of nature during the process with keen 
interest. On the platform below the pulpit, they 
erected a bower of the same green, brightened by 
the red, over which they placed the words woven from 
the delicate sprays of the hemlock : — 

‘¢The Lord bless thee and keep thee; 
The Lord cause his face to shine upon thee, 
And give thee peace.” 
The marriage ceremony was to be solemnized under 
this bower. During a sudden shower in the afternoon 
one young Indian said to another in English: ‘‘ The 
sky weeps for the red man, because he loses a friend.” 

The anticipated hour arrives at last, and from all 

parts of the Reservation the Indians make their way 


284 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


to the Mission church. The haughty pagan for once 
humbles his pride and enters the Christian church. A 
promise had been given that upon this occasion the 
wishes of the Indians should be consulted, when prac- 
ticable, and the first request comes from the mothers: 
‘May we take our babies to the wedding?” This 
privilege was promptly granted. 

When the bride and groom reach the church, in the 
famous hack, the Indian committee are at hand to 
escort them to the steps. They have taken up the 
carpet from the church aisle and spread it upon the 
ground for the use of the missionary bride. Who told 
them to do this? No one. The committee divide 
into two sections, one half preceding the bridal pair, 
the other half following, until they are escorted to the 
bower which has been prepared for them. 

Dr. Clark, brother of the bride, steps forward at 
once, and with his usual brevity upon such occa- 
sions, pronounces the words which make the couple 
husband and wife. Thus joined they are about to 
leave the church when a sensation is noticeable in 
the audience. 

Is this all? Have we worked weeks to make suit- 
able costumes and walked miles this very day to see 
only this? Brevity is odious to the Indian. 

‘‘We do not understand!” they say. ‘‘Let us 
have it in Indian!” Then the venerable missionary, 


“4 WEDDING LIKE WHITE PEOPLE” 285 


Rev. Asher Wright, steps forward and repeats the 
ceremony in their own language, taking three times 
the amount of time. This is satisfactory so far. 
But wait. Mr. Two-Guns is slowly walking up the 
aisle, followed by Mrs. Two-Guns and the baby — the 
latter resplendent in a bright yellow calico dress. 
There is absolute silence until he says, ‘‘ We wish our 
child baptized by the brother, and named for the 
husband, of our departing friend.” And then Dr. 
Clark performs the rite of baptism, and the infant 
receives his name — Lemuel Caswell Two-Guns. 

‘¢ And now,” said one, ‘* as we have had a promise 
that our wishes are to be gratified on this occasion, 
we ask that the bridal pair may stand where they are 
under the bower until we shake hands with them.” 

All the people in the church, in the most perfect 
order now pass up one aisle and down the other, 
stopping to shake hands and give us a word of 
greeting. When the first mother appears in the pro- 
cession, the black-eyed, plump-cheeked baby proves 
too great a temptation to a baby-lover, and Mr. Cas- 
well stoops and kisses the child. After this every 
baby in the house is presented with the emphatic 
word ‘‘Gwah!” (here !) 

The bridal pair, with their guests, and two hundred 
special friends among the Indians, now adjourned to 


the Indian Orphan Asylum two and a half miles away, 


286 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


and passed a few hours very pleasantly while an 
Indian program was carried out for the entertainment 
of those from abroad. 

A voice was heard saying these words: ‘‘ Alas! 
alas! our sister! What shall we do for our sister? 
We adopted her into our tribe, we made her as one 
with ourselves. She has broken the law, she has 
married out of her tribe. She cannot join us in the 
Happy Home beyond the Setting Sun! Alas! alas! 
our sister! What shall we do for our sister?” 

Second voice: ‘‘ Let me speak; I will tell you 
what we will do for our sister. We will adopt the 
man she has chosen into our tribe. ‘Thus we will save 
our sister. Then she may join us in the Happy Home 
beyond the Setting Sun.” 

Two lines of men were then formed. A sachem 
took Mr. Caswell by the arm and led him up and 
down, between the lines, while the men clapped their 


| eae 


hands and shouted, ‘‘ Yip! yip! yip!” and sang the 
war song. He was then named Sa-go-ye-ih after Red 
Jacket. 

Dr. Peter Wilson, a tall, powerful-looking Indian, 
a Cayuga, now stood before the newly wedded couple 
and addressed them as follows : — 

‘¢Qnce upon a time there was in New York City 
a poor boy who had no home, no friends. He slept 


upon doorsteps or in boxes at night and begged by 


“4 WEDDING LIKE WHITE PEOPLE.” 287 


day. A kind lady saw him one day and invited him 
to enter her Sunday-school class at the Mission. He 
accepted the invitation and a new world was opened 
to him. He was very grateful. He wanted to give 
the lady something all his own; but he had nothing. 

*¢One day a boy gave him half his ‘ chew of gum.’ 
After chewing it a while the little waif suddenly 
thought of the lady. ‘There!’ he exclaimed, ‘at 
last I have something all my own to give her!’ And 
on the next Sabbath the presentation was made. 

‘¢ Now,” continued Peter Wilson, suddenly placing 
a book of Indian photographs in the hand of the 
bride, ‘‘ this book which we give you is worth no 
more to you than the chew of gum was to the lady, 
but it is all we have. We have done our best.” 

The Indian choir, which had been singing in eastern 
cities for the benefit of the Orphan Asylum, now gave 
some of their songs in Indian and English, and after 
a bountiful supply of wedding cake ‘‘ all the way from 
Boston ” the wedding feast broke up at midnight. 

The next morning, the friend who had been with 
them so many years bade them good-by with sorrow 
that the happy life with them had closed, her grief 
being mingled with joy in the prospect of the glad life 
opening before her. 

During these days of sore trial to Mrs. Wright she 
smiled bravely through her tears and said, ‘‘It is 


288 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


all right. These seventeen years of close companion- 
ship have been very precious, and I must not rebel. 
God will surely raise me up another helper, another 
companion.” 

But her heavenly Father was leading her in ways 
she could not understand, yet evermore leading her, in 
the days and weeks and months of loneliness on that 
Reservation, to draw nearer to him as her only refuge 
and help and comfort. One by one the workers with 
whom she had been associated left her. They were a 
noble, consecrated band. The memory of their spirit- 
ual companionship was very precious to her. She 
loved to recall the words and ways of their little ones ; 
she loved to repeat the list of names so dear to her: 
Rev. Messrs. Thayer, Bliss, Gleason, Hall, Curtis, 
Ford, and the honored teachers who had so faithfully 
cooperated with them; and in addition to those 
already mentioned in these pages, she ever held in 
loving remembrance Mary Jane Thayer, Caroline 
‘Fox, Martha Stevens, Jane Shearer, Mary Gleason, 
Laura Raymond, Eleanor Jones, and other valued 
helpers. Then the companion of her youth and old 
age, and by whose side she had labored for these 
Indians fifty years, was laid to rest in the Indian 
graveyard, and she was left to carry the burden alone. 
Her faith was tested as by fire; trial succeeded trial ; 
but in childlike submission she said, ‘‘ It is the Lord. 


“4 WEDDING LIKE WHITE PEOPLE.” 289 


Let him do what seemeth unto him good.” Her 
favorite lines at this time were :— 
‘“When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie, 
My grace all-sufficient shall be thy supply — 
The flame shall not hurt thee—TI only design 
Thy dross to consume —thy gold to refine.” 

And indeed the gold of her character was refined — 
until it reflected the face of the Master. 

At last Rev. M. F. Trippe and his lovely wife were 
appointed by the Presbyterian Board ! to this mission, 
for which she was deeply grateful. They were a com- 
fort and inspiration ; but all too soon they were with- 
drawn and she pursued her journey alone, — as to any 
helpful companionship, — giving every hour of her life 
to these Indians, until, on the morning of January 21, 
1886, God suddenly called her home. 


1This Indian Mission had already been transferred from the Amer- 
ican Board to the Presbyterian Board of Missions, who still have it in 
charge. 


BaRK CANOE. 


XVII. 


EXTRACTS FROM MRS. WRIGHT’S LETTERS, 1870-1886. 


O MRS. LEROY OATMAN, Buffalo, — Mary Shanks came 
to-day to tell me that she had no stove. I gave her two 
dollars, and must try to get an old stove for her somewhere. 

That family is suffering. Mary was ever so thankful for the sewing 
machine, and you are the good angel who got it for her, because 
you put me on the track. How thankful I am for all the kindness 
shown me by you and your husband! May God reward you! 
And he will, because you give the cup of cold water in Christ’s 
name and for his sake, even though I am such a poor unworthy 
creature, not fit to be called his disciple; but I do long to know 
the things which are freely given to us of God. I have an inde- 
finable yearning for something to which I have not yet attained. 


We have little fruit, for which I greatly long at times, but we 
do have tomatoes, and how thankful we ought to be for them! 


I intended to go to Buffalo next week. but alas! I have had a 
blow on the temple from my horse’s head, while I was arranging 
his bridle. It did not hurt me much, but blackened my eye so that 
Tam afright! The pony did not do it in malice, only in restless- 
ness. How I want to see you! I feel the gnawings of hunger 
for companionship congenial to my soul. There is a good reason 
why I am hindered from going to you now. God knows, and it 
is all right. 


We are having some hopeful signs of revival interest at one of 
my out-stations, and I am experiencing some agonizing desires for 
a blessing in my own soul, and upon this people. I am studying 
the promises. Iam more and more convinced that the promises 
are for us, only we don’t appropriate them by faith. 

(1) ‘* Thy faith hath saved thee.” (2) ‘‘O thou of little faith, 
wherefore didst thou doubt?” (38) ‘‘O woman, great is thy 
faith.”” (4) ‘He could not do many mighty works there because 


291 


292 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


of their unbelief.” Setting these opposite each other, what do you 
understand by them? I am sure it is the lack of taking hold of 
the promises which makes us unprofitable and fruitless. Is it not 
so? We need the illuminating power of the Spirit to help us to 
grasp them. We need the intercession of the Spirit. We need 
the sanctifying power of the Spirit. God helps us to come humbly 
on account of our sins to the throne of grace, but boldly on 
account of God’s infinite condescension and great love for this 
lost world. 


I send you a package of mosses and leaves, which will serve to 
remind you of the autumn of my life; but I still find in my heart 
a loving, tender regard for friends long endeared. I am very 
busy — crowded with work of every kind and pressed on every 
hand. Oh, how we need more laborers here! 


That dear lady is in all respects a jewel of the first water, but 
the setting is wrong. We may muke mistakes sometimes, but God 
knows just how to deal with us. I often say, What a pity he or 
she should have taken this or that step! but how do I know but 
God permitted it for good, and perhaps took that course to save? 
Oh, the depths, both of the riches, wisdom, and knowledge of 
God! How unsearchable are his judgments and his ways past 
finding out! But how safe to trust all our interests entirely in 
his hands! How restful! God help us always to look to him 
in faith and hope and love, knowing that he is able to do ex- 
ceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think. Let us 
shout, ‘‘ Begone, unbelief!” and go on our way rejoicing in God 
always, trusting implicitly in his wisdom, faithfulness, power, 
and love. 

We are passing through some trials. The enemy roars upon us 
sometimes. It seems as though he would swallow us up. Oh, for 
overcoming faith! Sometimes I cry out many times in a day, 
““O Lord, have mercy upon us! Undertake for us!” Will you 
pray that my faith in God may be unwavering, and that we mis- 
sionaries may be delivered from unreasonable and wicked men; 
that, notwithstanding our mistakes, we may not be left to be 
devoured of the adversary? 


An Indian mother called to-day to tell me of the illness of her 
only daughter, She said; ‘*I do not think she will ever be any 


/ 


EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 293 


better, for she is in a decline; but I am so thankful that she has 
come to me, and that I can make her comfortable in her last days. 
When she left me many years since, she was a member of the 
church, and I thought a true Christian—but she has been living 
since at the door of hell. I have prayed all these years that she 
might be brought back from her wanderings, for she had lost all 
her religion. There were no good influences around her. Now 
she has come home to me to die. Will you pray for her that 
before she leaves me I may know that she has asked and received 
forgiveness?” Igave such counsel and comfort as I could under 
the circumstances, and left such medicines as were needed for her 
temporary relief. 

A few days later the mother came again to the Mission House 
and said, ‘‘I have been watching and praying very earnestly for 
a change in my daughter’s mind. A few nights ago, after I had 
retired and all was still, | lay awake praying for her all by myself, 
when I thought I heard her speak. I rose immediately and went 
to her bedside and said : — 

““¢ Do you want anything?’ ‘Oh, no!’ said she; ‘I was praying 
here all by myself; I did not know that I spoke.’ 

“Oh, how thankful I was to hear her say that! My tears 
streamed down my cheeks and when I could speak I said : — 

**¢ Daughter, I thank God for this answer to my prayer. I too 
was praying in my bed and pleading with God that you might 
return to him, and that I might hear your voice in prayer once 
more. And now I will kneel down here by your bed and we will 
pray together.’ And so we did, and from that time my daughter 
has been clear and happy in her mind.” 

This state of mind continued till her death. Christian friends 
visited her from time to time and found her in a humble, peni- 
tent, and believing state of mind. After all was over the mother 
came again to see me and said : — 

‘¢T never can be thankful enough that our daughter was brought 
back to Christ before she died. While she lived in that dreadful 
place it seemed to me she could not repent; the temptations were 
so thick around her, and I used to lie awake nights, praying, pray- 
ing for her. It was God’s hand that brought her home to die. 
‘ His will be done.’ ” 


To a Former Associate,—Spiritual darkness thickens all 
around us. Watchman, what of the night? The door is open, 


294 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


but the people are stupid, sleepy, dead, like dry bones in the val- 
ley. They need the breath of the Spirit to blow upon them; they 
“need to awake to their condition. God help us! 

Tam making a special effort for the women and children among 
the pagans at Newtown. I have invited the mothers to come 
together and make garments for their children. I am satisfied 
that this is a good thing to do, and I am able thus to reach both 
mothers and children. Samuel Morris, a good Quaker of Phila- 
delphia, has sent me one hundred dollars for this work; and this 
with the money from Boston will help me through.1 

Humanly speaking, there never was a time on this Reservation 
when things looked so dark. May God have mercy upon us! is 
my prayer. Once ina while I meet some old woman who really 
sheds tears over the spiritual desolation here, and this encourages 
me. You cannot know how utterly alone I feel here now. There 
is no one left who can fully and intelligently sympathize with me. 
Sometimes the loneliness oppresses me so that I am in danger of 
breaking down. I cannot speak to any one of my fears and my 
discouragements. I have no one to whom I can communicate 
my anxieties. Jam sorry I have been tempted to send you such 
a piteous wail. 


I have received some wonderful intimations that God favors the 
effort 1 am making to raise funds for my gospel industrial work. 
A Quaker lady in New York City promised me two hundred 
and fifty dollars for this work. Last week she wrote that she 
could send me only twenty-five dollars of the money promised. 
I was stunned, and lay on my face before God in great distress 
and darkness of mind. Saturday evening I received another letter, 
in which she told me she felt impelled to send the two hundred 
and fifty dollars in addition to the twenty-five. I was rebuked 
for my unbelief, and with a thankful heart went on rejoicing. 

Tam so thankful for the help that comes to me from Boston! 
I could not live without it. The drought has been a terrible 
thing, and the crop of corn and potatoes almost useless. Strong 
drink is doing a dreadful work all over the Reservation. It was 
never so bad before, and you know that in itself means poverty 
and suffering and every evil to which flesh is heir. Mr. Trippe, 
our new missionary, is working bravely and his sweet little wife 
is helping with all her might. 


1 An appropriation from the Society for the Propagation of the Gos- 
pel among the Indians. 


EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 295 


You will be surprised to hear from me in Buffalo. I came here 
a week ago to-day to solicit money from the good people of this 
city to help repair our Indian church. It is in a deplorable state. 
You know it was always shaky. The plastering was loosened all 
around and it leaked, and the chimneys were very bad. The 
Indians are very enthusiastic about repairing it. A large company 
of men have been at work drawing lumber and shingling, and 
doing something for two weeks. The men have raised one hun- 
dred dollars in cash; the women seventy dollars; and the Council 
has given one hundred dollars. Now I am trying to get Christian 
people here to help. I have received thus far eighty dollars, but, 
oh, itis such hard work! I have called on ladies here who have 
hundreds and thousands of dollars at their command, who are sur- 
rounded with every luxury, who tell me they cannot afford to give 
anything. Some frankly say, ‘‘I have no interest in this matter.” 
If I did not feel it to be my duty to raise the money, I would never 
go through this torture. If I did not feel that the Indians have 
really done all they can, I would not ask a white man for one cent. 
I have received encouraging words from Rey. Mr. Lowell and 
Rev. Mr. Hubbell, which have greatly strengthened me. 


I am struggling to-day and every day to find access to God, by 
prayer. I am not satisfied with my piety. There must be more 
for us to know. We certainly have not yet come to the perfect 
stature of Christian life. I have not. How can I be willing to 
live out the remainder of my life, poor and worthless as all has 
been, without a deeper experience of the power and love and 
faithfulness of God? I want to know the things that are freely 
given to us of God. Even these longings are filled, I fear, with 
doubt and unbelief, unreconciliation and ignorance, and even rebel- 
lion. I long to get into the light of faith and perfect trust. Oh, 
such burdens as I feel with regard to this people and the people 
of the neighboring white communities! So much ignorance and 
apathy on a subject which should lie so near the heart of every 
disciple! Oh, for a revival of religion among the white people 
who surround this Reservation of Indians! 


I want you to pray that I may be baptized with the Spirit of 
God, whom Christ said should come and lead his people into the 
truth. I am sure this is what I need, and what all Christians 
need at the present day. I long for a mighty effusion of this 


296 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


divine life in my own soul to fit me for divine service. Would 
that I might be permitted to do some good before I die! 

It seems to me I never saw the vanity of living to make money 
as I see it now, except as it can be used to forward the interests of 
Christ’s kingdom. What poor trash it is! How it leads men to 
death, present and eternal! Will you pray that I may be enabled 
to do some good to certain people on this Reservation who are led 
captive by Satan at his will? There are those here who have not 
relapsed into outrageous sin; but any sin unrepented of does so 
sear the conscience and harden the heart! Very few bear us on 
their hearts to the mercy-seat now, and the number grows less 
every year, because our old friends are dying off. Do you realize 
that I am on the last half of my semi-centennial year of service 
among these Indians? Poor service! Next January I shall have 
been with them fifty years. 


My heart is full of sad thoughts about the state of affairs here. 
The corn is cut off this year, as you know, but you cannot imag- 
ine how the whole people feel it, especially the poor. Last week 
seventy persons came to us for meal or flour; that which we have 
is almost gone. There are so many suffering ones about us that I 
cannot enjoy eating my food. Sometimes more than thirty people 
in one day come to tell us the story of their wants and to get me 
to beg for them. There has been an article in the papers telling 
the need of help, and asking the benevolent to send contributions. 
This distress will be likely to increase until spring opens. 

I have passed through the horrors of cholera and smallpox and 
malignant typhoid fever, with these Indians, when a hundred died 
within a year, but I never saw anything like this. It takes all my 
vitality to see and talk with the multitude of people who come 
here with their pitiful stories, and not be able to help them. 

Do you know we are entirely destitute of fruit this year? No 
apples, peaches, or grapes. I am nearly starved for fruit. I do 
not have tea or coffee, and do not eat much meat, so I am some- 
what “hard up” to get anything that relishes; but the Lord is 
good to me, and I have great reason to be thankful. My greatest 
anxiety is to see this people converted. Must I die and leave them 
in rebellion against God? How can I bear the thought? 


I cannot tell you much that is encouraging about our spiritual 
interests. The people have not raised the amount that was asked 


EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 297 


of them, and so Mr. Trippe has been withdrawn from this station 
and placed in charge of all the other Reservations. So we have 
preaching only once a month. The people are very much discour- 
aged. They thought they did all they could. The crops were poor 
last year, the roads almost impassable all winter, so that they 
could do nothing in the woods. You know there are only a few 
who can do very much. The rich members of the church have 
died. There are only two left, and they are old men, who live a 
long distance from the church. Last year nobody was able to lay 
up any corn or potatoes. You know the Indians cannot be driven; 
they will follow if they can be made to believe that you really love 
them. They will not bear scolding. 


I confess that Iam constantly praying that the Lord will bring 
you back here just for a few weeks. It has seemed to me lately as 
though you might walk in any minute. Perhaps it is because we 
have been cleaning house, and fixing up, and arranging the many 
things which you have sent us to make the Mission House more 
attractive. More and more I feel what a blessing it would be to 
these people if you could come here just a little while. May God 
in his great mercy grant us this, the desire of our hearts! He has 
done great things for us, whereof we are glad, but giving does 
not impoverish him. He is able to do exceeding abundantly more 
than we can ask or even think. How little we know of the things 
which are freely given to us of God! and therefore we are lean 
and unprofitable in our service. How we toil and strive in vain, 
when we might live in the sunlight of God’s love! 

I am conscious of making a daily struggle towards the posses- 
sion of simple, trusting faith in God’s Word. This is not unat- 
tainable— but I am so earthly, so human, so slow of heart to 
believe that God is willing to do such good things for us, that 
nothing shall be impossible to us. How wonderful is God’s for- 
bearance to us! 

I cannot help clinging to the hope that the way will be open for 
you to come to us. I cannot bear to think that this blessing will 
not come to this people. Will not your husband for Christ’s sake, 
for the sake of this people, spare you to us a little while? 


Her request is granted, and her friend, to whose 


husband the following letter of grateful appreciation 


298 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


was addressed, was permitted to spend one month at 
the Mission. 


To the Husband of her Former Associate, —I feel constrained 
this afternoon to write to you. My heart is so full I must speak. I 
want you to know that I shall feel grateful to you as long as I live, 
and I think I may say through all eternity, for letting your dear 
wife come to see us. J cannot tell you how I have longed to see 
her these years, and how I have choked down the dreadful feeling 
of disappointment as each summer has passed away and I have 
failed to see her. I had come to think that it would never be on 
this side the pearly gates, and have often found myself anticipat- 
ing the meeting on the other side. I have felt lately that her com- 
ing was a delusive dream, something which it must be wrong to 
hope for, something not to be thought of. 

When she really did come I could hardly believe the evidence of 
my senses for some days; but now I know that her visit is a 
reality. I have tested her living presence and enjoyed it to the 
full. Now I count the days and the hours of her stay, and I bless 
you every time Idoso. It is so kind of you to let her stay here a 
whole month! You can never know what her presence is to this 
people, and to me; I shall go in the strength of this meat many 
days, if my life is spared. 

There has never been a time since she left us when she could 
have done so much for us. Every circumstance has been ordered 
by the loving Father’s hand. She has been constantly at work, 
but I do not think she has suffered from it. I have watched her 
with the deepest anxiety, but all mountains have been leveled 
' before her, and the rough places have been made smooth, and no 
accident has cast a gloom over our rides day and evening, upon 
the wretched roads and broken bridges and through the swollen 
streams of this Reservation. We have gone out and come in as 
we used to do in the blessed years of the past. 

She has sung and played on our old broken-down melodeon to 
the exquisite satisfaction of our Hemlocks, Big Kettles, Corn- 
planters, Yellow Blankets, Green Blankets, Halftowns, and Sil- 
verheels. I only wish you could have seen the smiling faces, and 
the brown hands stretched out in happy greeting as they came 
around her at the close of every meeting. You see they did not 
expect her really to come any more than I did. 


EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 299 


Well, I cannot express what I feel, and so I stop here, as I hear 
her voice calling from below, ‘‘Auntie Wright, there is a man here 
who wants some medicine.” So farewell, dear brother; God bless 
you in soul and body for time and for eternity. Your ever grate- 
ful friend, LaurRA M. WRIGHT. 


XVIII. 


LAST MESSAGES. 


CATTARAUGUS RESERVATION, January 14, 1886. 


From F. E. Parker : — 


Auntie Wright is very, very ill with pneumonia. The doctor 
thinks she will not get well. Will you pray for her that she may 
be spared to us a little longer, that her prayers may yet be answered 
for our people? 


From Mrs. Trippe : — 


I have been sitting with Auntie Wright for atime and she has 
requested me to write to you. She is no better, but the doctor 
says if she lives twenty-four hours she may possibly recover. Her 
brother Henry came yesterday. She was so glad to see him. She 
threw her arms around his neck and drew him close to her pillow, 
and whispered, ‘‘Glory to God!” Her voice is strong at times. 
The doctor does n’t wish her to talk or sit up, even in bed, but she 
has a strong will and is very restless. Your letter is most fitting to 
be the last to her if she must go. Your words of encouragement 
concerning the results which must follow her earnest, constant 
prayer were a great inspiration to her. I trust you will not be 
overcome in view of the possible loss of this dear one to whom 
your own life has been so closely attached. Let us think only of 
her joy, her blessed entrance into the Beyond, her release from all 
the trials and anxieties of life; for as you well know she bears the 
burden of every one. 


From her niece, Miss Ella Sheldon : — 


The dear sick one is sleeping now, but may arouse at any minute. 
Her mind is very active. She knows every one who speaks to her. 


301 


302 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


It does not seem possible for her to recover. The doctor gives us 
no hope. Dear friend, what shall we do without her? 

When your letter to young Parker came, cousin Helen Mixer 
sat down very close to Auntie Wright and said, ‘‘ Auntie, here is 
a message for you. Shall I read it to you? Can you hear me?” 
** Yes,” said she. And then cousin Helen read it very slowly and 
distinctly, just as you would have liked her to read it. Then fora 
full minute, it might have been a longer time, Auntie Wright kept 
perfectly quiet. It was so long that we feared she had not heard 
or comprehended, when she exclaimed, ‘‘ No one knows —no one 
knows but God — what a comfort these words are to me.” 


From her brother, Mr. Henry Sheldon : — 


January 21, 1886. 

We have been up through the night with the sick one. She is 
now unconscious, except when aroused to take medicine or milk. 
It is hard to say it, but we have given up all hope, although we are 
doing all we can to save this precious life. What will become of 
this people when she leaves them, God only knows! 

Later. I have the sad news to impart to you that Mrs. Wright 
breathed her last at one o’clock P.M. to-day. In the house and all 
about it are groups of bereaved Indians in tears. The funerai 
services will be held at the house and at the Mission church a half 
hour later. Of her it is surely recorded above, ‘‘She hath done 
what she could.” 


Thus did Mr. and Mrs. Wright give their lives to 
these Indians, not by a tragic death, but by long 
years of unremitting ministry, the outline of which is 
summed up in the following page. The power of this 
influence in the spiritual kingdom is known to Him 
only for whom they ‘‘ counted not their lives as dear 
unto themselves that they might accomplish the min- 
istry which they received from the Lord Jesus to 
testify the gospel of the grace of God” to the people. 


LAST MESSAGES. 803 


Rey. Asher Wright was born in Hanover, New 
Hampshire, in 1803. He made a profession of reli- 
gion at sixteen and from the very first cherished the 
idea of becoming a missionary. He graduated from 
Andover Seminary in 1831, and went to the Seneca 
Indians under commission of the American Board of 
Commissioners for Foreign Missions. He remained 
with these Indians fifty-seven years, dying in 1875, 
aged seventy-three. 

Mrs. Wright was born in St. Johnsbury, Vermont, 
in 1809. She labored among these Indians fifty-three 
years, surviving her husband eleven years. She died 
January 21, 1886, on the anniversary of her wedding 
day, aged seventy-seven. 

These two missionaries translated the Four Gospels 
and several other portions of Scripture into the Sen- 
eca language. In the same language they published 
two editions of hymns, many of them of their own 
composition. They also prepared a vocabulary of the 
Seneca language and published many Indian leaflets. 

Through the efforts of Rev. M. F. Trippe a mon- 
ument has been placed in the Mission graveyard at 
the spot where lie the remains of these lamented and 
honored missionaries. 


XIX. 


TESTIMONY AT A MEMORIAL SERVICE ON BEHALF OF 
MR. AND MRS. WRIGHT. 


Tue testimony of Henry Silverheels : — 


I will say a few words. Our sister, Mrs. Wright, 
who is through with her work, was a believer. She 
believed God when he said ‘‘ Go preach my gospel.” 
We all witness that she did that here. She has 
labored faithfully among our people; every day we 
have seen her doing good. She has instructed all — 
old men and women, young men and maidens, and 
even the little ones; she has cared for their souls 
and for their bodies. We have seen her in church 
every Sabbath, and she has spoken to us all some 
word, or gently whispered about Jesus Christ. 

What shall we do now? We shall never more hear 
her voice. Shall we believe her words or not? Shall 
we take her advice? Shall we repent of our sins and 
believe the gospel? She has gone to the world of 
happiness. Many things troubled her here, but now 
she is free, in that world of joy. I cannot mourn 
over her death because she is so happy now in heaven 
praising God. I urge you, my people, to be faithful 

205 


306 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


unto death, and you shall meet her in heaven, and 
with her be forever happy. 

Her husband, Mr. Wright, gave the best strength 
of his early manhood to us, and he continued to work 
for us until the very last. He was always kind and 
patient with us. He never talked hard when we did 
not do right; he never scolded us; he was like a 
good, wise father to us all. He would take as much 
pains to speak to a poor man, or a very wicked man, 
as he would to a good man, ora rich man. He loved 
us all, and he tried to do us all good. We all be- 
lieved and knew that he was our friend. Sometimes 
we quarreled about our political affairs and there were 
very hard words between us. Mr. Wright always 
acted as a peacemaker. Sometimes we found fault 
with him and blamed him, but he never said anything 
back to us, or reproached us. He was like Christ. 
He always returned good for evil. 


From Daniel Two-Guns : — 


This brother expressed his gratitude that the Great 
Father had fulfilled his promise to send messengers, 
bringing the ‘*‘ good tidings” in which all mankind 
are participants. He spoke with a full heart of Mr. 
Wright, whom he mentioned by his Indian name, 
‘¢ Gai-wi-yu,” 


‘Good News,” said he, ‘‘ was a good doctor as 


meaning ‘*‘ Good News.” 


TESTIMONIES. 307 


well as a Christian worker. He was ready at all 
hours to respond to any calls made upon him, and his 
health at last broke down under the hardships of his 
self-imposed task. He was one of the truest friends 
the Indian ever had; he could speak our language 
as well as a native, and frequently delighted us with 


a sermon in our own tongue.” 


F. E. Parker, a Seneca, whose mother, a niece 
of Mrs. Wright, married N. H. Parker, the United 
States Indian Interpreter, spoke with much feeling 
of the devotion of Mr. and Mrs. Wright, with whom 
he had resided for several years. ‘‘I have often 
seen them,” said he, ‘‘in the early morning, while 
all the household were asleep, kneeling in supplication 
for the people they loved. Their hearts and hands 
were always open for the benefit of our nation. 
When cholera and smallpox half ravaged our Reser- 
vation, when no one would go near those who 
were sick, Mr. and Mrs. Wright went to their homes 
and ministered to them. They were truly angels of 


mercy.” 


From Major Cole, an evangelist, of Michigan : — 


I once visited the Seneca Indians on the Cattaraugus Reservation. 
IT found there an aged sister, Mrs. Wright, who had been laboring 
among them for many years. All the missionaries who had been 
associated with her were dead, or removed to other fields. As soon 


308 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


as she found I had come to preach the gospel to these Indians, she 
praised the Lord, saying he had answered her prayers. 

‘“*T have prayed,” she exclaimed, ‘‘ that the Lord would send 
somebody to preach to these people among whom I have worked 
as well as I could, and for whom I have prayed constantly that 
they might be saved.” 

T said, ‘‘ How long have you been working here, sister?” 

‘“* More than fifty years,” she replied. She was full of faith that 
the Lord would send a blessing upon this beloved people. 

Well, we went to the little chapel among the pagans, and she 
said :— 

“‘T will call them to the meeting.’”? She took hold of the bell 
rope, and with all her strength began to ring the bell. I went up 
to her and said : — 

“¢ Let me do that.” 

She said, ‘‘ No, you pray. You must save all your strength for 
the people. Pray hard that the Lord will give you souls to-day.” 

We waited five minutes, but no one came; still she kept ringing 
the bell. Ten minutes passed, yet we were alone. Finally, I began 
to think we should not have an audience, and that we might as 
well go back to the Mission. 

“Brother Cole,” said she, ‘“‘I have waited nearly fifty years. 
You won’t leave them, will you, until you have preached to 
them?” 

I was reproved, and said, ‘‘ I will not leave this place until I have 
seen some of these Indians saved.” 

She continued to ring the bell, but no one came. 

She said: ‘‘ Brother Cole, you stay here and pray. Pray hard. 
I will go to every house and bring them in.” 

So she ran down a little footpath through the woods, and soon 
a tal] Indian came stalking in and took his seat, while she started 
off down another trail, and presently came back with three more. 
She kept on until we had quite an audience, and were able to begin 
the meeting. She interpreted my English into Indian, and such a 
meeting as we had that afternoon in that little house! God met us 
there, and thirteen precious souls were saved at that time. This 
fruit was the result of her faithful seed-sowing. 


From Rey. M. F. Trippe : — 
Mrs. Wright literally bore these people upon her heart. She 


7 EE ——=E eee 


a ™ 


TESTIMONIES. 309 


knew them all. No one will ever live who will know them so well. 
Every child born since the year 1883 has been tenderly watched 
by her from infancy to old age or death. She knew their sorrows, 
successes, hopes, disappointments, failures; their mental, moral, 
and physical characteristics. Every case of soul-wrecking came as 
a personal calamity upon her grieving heart. She keenly felt all 
the bitter curses heaped upon this race by her own. She recog- 
nized one thing as essential to the safety and salvation of the peo- 
ple, and that was their full and hearty acceptance of Christianity. 
For this end she labored, prayed, and wept. Side by side, Mr. and 
Mrs. Wright toiled, and their holy purpose was to save this people 
for Christ and heaven. 

I wonder if you. realize that the intense, persistent, unfailing 
purpose of this woman was to save your race. Your coming doom 
as a race and as individuals, if you did not accept Christ, drove 
sleep from her eyes. She would weep and pray the night through. 
I cannot tell you how greatly she loved you, how she robbed her- 
self of ordinary comforts to keep you from suffering. Her nature 
was love. I never knew her to hold resentment for any wrong 
inflicted upon herself. She never bore ill-will when ill-treated, yet 
she never forgot a wrong committed against a poor Indian. She 
was always watchful of your interests, always on the alert to defeat 
the wicked schemes of unworthy persons who would make you 
their prey. Denied children of ber own, she adopted you all. 
Never was a more fitting word spoken than the remark made 
by one of your prominent men on the day of her death: “‘ The 
Indians are all orphans now.” 

The death of Mrs. Wright is a loss irreparable to the people to 
whom she has given all the strength, freshness, and wisdom of a 
long life. There is no one able to fill her place. As a dear friend 
said of her, ‘It is only her body that failed. Her spirit was fresh, 
young, and helpful to all who came within the sphere of her 
influence.”’ 

One can hardly realize the extent of the sacrifice to persons of 
the intelligence, gifts, and education of Mr. and Mrs. Wright, to 
isolate themselves from the stimulus of an active and intelligent 
community, and conform their lives to the lives of a less-favored 
people. Mr. Wright was an accomplished Oriental scholar, and 
a master of seven languages. It will be long ere the Indian race 
finds other teachers and pastors so superior and so devoted. 


310 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


From Hon. William P. Letchworth, of Buffalo : — 


In the summer of 1854 unusual destitution and suffering pre- 
vailed among these Indians. Mr. and Mrs. Wright, who were so 
active in seeking out and relieving the wants of the distressed, 
_ were appalled at the amount of sickness and privation around 
them, and almost disheartened over their inability to extend any- 
thing like adequate relief to the afflicted and dying Indians about 
them. Early and late through these sad days these good people 
labored on through the summer, imploring aid from such friends 
as they could reach; but with tne approach of winter they saw 
that still greater suffering must ensue. Then more earnest appeals 
went out both far and near. One of these reached Philip Thomas, 
a Friend, of Baltimore, who had previously shown a deep interest 
in their work. Encouraged by promises of liberal aid from him, 
they redoubled their exertions. 

At this time Mr. and Mrs. Wright brought into their family 
ten sick and starving Indian children, thus assuming in addi- 
tion to their labors a load of care equal to their utmost capacity. 
Dwellers in princely mansions, lovers of fashion, luxury, and ease, 
what think you of this sacrifice? 

This was the nucleus and real beginning of the Thomas Indian 
Orphan Asylum. By the aid of Philip Thomas and a small state 
appropriation, and the council of the Seneca nation, which gave 
the land for the home, and benevolent people, the Thomas Indian 
Orphan Asylum was permanently established. 

In 1875, by the enforcement of a recent amendment to the Consti- 
tution, all state aid was cut off. This would have resulted in clos- 
ing the asylum had not Mr. Wright and Dr. Pettit, of Fredonia, 
another warm friend of the Indian, and president of the board of 
trustees, gone to Albany and laid the situation before the legis- 
lature. 

Their petition was at first denied, to the great dejection and 
sorrow of poor Mr. Wright. Eventually, however, his earnest- 
ness and persistency prevailed. A plan was devised whereby the 
state took the asylum property and assumed control of the insti- 
tution, supplying all the means for its support, and Mr. Wright 
returned home in buoyant spirits. This was his last opportunity 
to present the claims of the Indian children to the legislature, 
Though in feeble health, nothing could deter him from making 
this journey, and he never recovered from the fatigue and expo- 
sure consequent upon it. 


TESTIMONIES. 311 


From Secretary Bamuna, of the Buffalo Historical 
Society : — 


I spent three summer days at the Indian Mission House. I left 
the train at the nearest point to the Cattaraugus Reservation and 
took a wagon to the Mission House. In this neighborhood the 
Indians have embraced Christianity. They are intelligent, and 
somewhat educated; their houses are neat, their farms and gar- 
dens well tilled. 

Mrs. Wright took me to the settlement of the pagans. These 
people have refused to embrace Christianity, and a large portion 
of them are most pitiably drunken, debased, utterly shiftless and 
worthless. They have no good farms, no gardens, and are misera- 
ble objects of charity. The influence of the selfish white man 
and his fire water could not be more terribly or more truthfully 
depicted. The contrast between these two settlements could not 
be more marked. 

I found Mrs. Wright a very pleasant woman, and I formed a 
most favorable opinion of her character as well as of her influence 
for good among the people about her. She was constantly being 
consulted by them on all sorts of subjects, and always entered 
fully into everything that concerned them. A young girl came 
into the room having on shoes with the toes worn out. She 
showed her bare toes to Mrs. Wright, who at once gave her some 
money to buy another pair. I learned that she always gave in this 
way all the money she could possibly spare from her salary. She 
was entirely devoted to this people, and ready to make any sacrificc 
for them. Hers was not a labor of duty alone, but one of love. 


From Miss Ella Sheldon (a niece), Canton, Penn- 


sylvania : — 


What a great, loving heart she had! How sure we were of 
her sympathy in every particular with all our little plans! We 
ought to rejoice that she is‘at last at rest. She was almost broken- 
hearted over that people. When she died what a load must have 
fallen from her heart! She always cared for others before herself. 
The day she was taken sick she went out to the barn and nailed a 
board over a hole in the wall so the wind would n’t blow in on 


312 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


poor Nellie, the missionary horse. In her last hours she said, 
‘‘God is so good to me, and I do praise his ‘name!” Sleeping or 
waking, her lips were constantly moving. When we bent over 
her to listen it was always a word of grace or a breath of prayer 
which came to our ears. Was it not beautiful that she could go 
home on the anniversary of her wedding day? 


~ From Mrs. Leroy Oatman, Buffalo, New York : — 


I once passed through some silver-refining works, and when 
a piece of silver came from the furnace after its very last refin- 
ing, it was perfectly free from all dross. The character of Mrs. 
Wright seemed to me to have passed this, its last needed refining 
fire. I could not see why or how she needed the last terrible pro- 
cess, but since she has gone it has been made plain to me. She 
needed to be made more perfectly like her Pattern. How she 
did try to imitate him! Her every breath seemed to be in har- 
mony with God’s way and God’s will. I think I never knew any 
one so afraid that justice would not be done to everything. Her 
face was once badly bruised by her pony, but she “‘ didn’t believe 
he meant to hurt her.’’ She never meant to think evil of any one. 
She was precious, pure metal. 


From Miss Sylvia P. Joslin, a missionary teacher : — 


My most frequent memory of Mrs. Wright is the expression 
of her face in my schoolroom at Newtown, when pagan women 
came in to have a little talk with her before the exercises began. 
Although I could not understand the language, I knew by the 
patient, sad look upon her face how sorry she felt for the poor 
benighted soul who was vigorously blowing her up, as she so 
frequently allowed them to do. 

I would exclaim, ‘‘ Oh! the miserable ingrates!” but she, dear, 
patient, forgiving soul, as she listened, was praying for wisdom to 
reply to these unreasonable charges, and reports of scandal. How 
gently and wisely she would hold up better things to them! How 
patiently she would explain these petty matters which had so 
enraged their small souls! 

Do you remember her faithful and delicate ministrations to the 
sick? How often she gave them the necessary medicines with her 


WA, 


TESTIMONIES. ; 313 


own hand through fear of some mistake! And when there was 
no longer an appropriation granted her for medicine for these 
people, she furnished it just the same from her own small salary. 
She would go to Buffalo and buy medicine and groceries and flan- 
nel, etc., for these people, and for herself one pair of cheap, con- 
gress cloth boots. Her own needs were forgotten in the sore need 
of these suffering people. 

I have often slept in the same room with her. Her first 
waking thought was-a prayer. Every morning I would see that 
dear hand placed over the eyes while her lips moved in prayer. 
During my last years with her it seemed as if every breath was a 
prayer, when she was not talking to some one. 


From Rev. W. C. Dewey, a nephew of Mr. Wright, 
now a missionary in Mardin, Turkey in Asia: — 


My earliest remembrances of Auntie Wright are as she appeared 
on one of her visits with Uncle Wright to the west about thirty 
years or more ago. At that time I stood quite in awe of her, she 
seemed so stately and almost austere. It seems to me now, as my 
memory runs back, that she had changed but very little in all 
these subsequent years. And yet I remember that even then her 
innate kindness was as active as ever. I have somewhere among 
my papers now, I presume, a little hymn which she wrote for me, 
and another for my younger sister, Mary. This was all, except 
occasional references in letters and in the family talk, till that 
winter twenty-one years ago, when we two young ‘‘ Suckers” 
from Illinois dropped in at the Mission House one evening. 

I was not altogether unappreciative at the time of her kindness 
to me that year on the Reservation; but it has grown on me more 
and more as the years have gone by. Ah, how many pictures rise 
as memory casts her glance backward over the intervening years! 
Perhaps my own missionary experience helps me to a fuller 
understanding of what she really was and did in that household 
and among the people. How dependent our dear uncle was upon 
her! 

I fear I used sometimes to try her patience sadly, as when one 
time in my simplicity I filled that big box stove in the sitting room 
with green beech wood! I believe she never actually reproved me 
but once, and that was, I need not say, most richly deserved. It 


314 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


occurred soon after a visit of the Quakers. We were all in the 
sitting room one evening and had been speaking of them, when 
I made some light remark about ‘‘the Spirit moving them.” It 
was intended on my part to be simply humorous, and without 
the smallest thought of disrespect; but I remember as well as 
though it had been only yesterday her look and manner as she 
said, ** Don’t, Willis; I can’t endure to hear such good people ridi- 
culed.” It was a most salutary lesson to me, putting the subject 
before me in an entirely new light. 

You remember our trips to Newtown, when we sometimes had 
to build our own bridges across the creeks. But I cannot begin 
to speak of her constant, unwearying, far-reaching labors of love 
for that people. 

She was ever ‘‘as one that served.” Well did we choose for 
the motto on the stone last fall: ‘‘ They pleased not themselves.” 
When the stone came, and she noted the inscription, she turned 
and spoke reproachfully: ‘‘ Why, Willis! why did you put it 
they ?” 

It was the next time I was there, three years later, in 1868, 
when I went on and took charge of the Indian Orphan Asylum 
during my summer vacation, that I began to have a little truer 
conception of what she really was. I remember thinking at one 
time that she was not pleased with my course in regard to some 
of the boys. So I was deeply touched when she spoke to me one 
evening just before I was going away. She was in the yard at the 
west end of the house taking in clothes from the line; I had hap- 
pened over there for something and she stopped me. I do not 
recall now just what she said, but she spoke in a way that made 
me feel, as I never had felt before, that she appreciated the difticul- 
ties under which I had been laboring and looked upon the work 
there in no critical, fault-finding spirit. 

When next I saw her was the summer of 1875, which I spent 
there just after Uncle Wright’s death; and then I came to know 
her still better, especially after Phinie [a niece of Mrs. Wright] 
and I began to draw together—Ido not believe there was ever 
the first selfish thought in her heart in regard to that matter. As 
I have come to understand since how much this young girl was 
to her, it would have seemed the most natural thing in the world 
if she had discouraged anything as likely to take her away. 
Almost her first words to me on the subject, when she found that 
the attachment was mutual, were the expression of thanksgiving, 


TESTIMONIES. $15 


and as the tears sprang to her eyes, she said she was sure nothing 
in the world would have given so great gratification to Uncle 
Wright had he been living. I was much impressed while among 
the Senecas last fall, to note the ripening—mellowing of her 
character — the growing in grace. 


THE BELOVED MISSIONARY PHYSICIAN. 


He was humble. kind, forgiving, meek; " 

Easy to be entreated, gracious, mild; 

And with all patience and affection taught, 
Rebuked, persuaded, solaced, counseled, warned, 
In fervent style and manner. All 

Saw in his face contentment, in his life 

The path to glory and perpetual joy. 


Mr. Wright was a man of rare tact and ability, and had acquired 
an extraordinary influence with the tribe.— Rev. Dr. Hubbell, 
Buffalo. 


Although by his talents he might have filled the pulpit of any 
of the leading churches, he resisted all such temptations to labor 
for the Indian. He had selected a task more difficult than that 
of going among the heathen of distant lands; but from that task 
he never shrank, he never turned back. Nor did he ever regret 
that he had made this his life work. By the remarkable gentle- 
ness that characterized his nature he was often selected to play 
the part of peacemaker when troubles arose among the pagans as 
well as among the Christians. — Rev. Dr. Chester, Buffalo. 


The literary work of both Mr. and Mrs. Wright, the Thomas 
Indian Orphan Asylum, the cultivated fields of the Reserva- 
tion, and the prosperity of the Senecas constitute their endur- 
ing monument; but the crowning excellence in the character of 
both was their humble piety and consecration to the Master. — 
Colonel J. B. Plumb, Westfield, New York. 


Mr. Wright was energetic, yet quiet; genial in conversation, 
eareful in giving his opinion, and by his sound judgment held 
great influence with the Indians, with whom he was a recognized 
counselor and friend. His knowledge of business made him prac- 
tically useful to his Indian friends in urging them to adopt agri- 


316 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


cultural pursuits and to form habits of industry.— Hon. W. P. 
Letchworth. 


The whole story of his life may be summed up in the single 
statement: he was Christlike. He had a kind word for every- 
body, and rarely closed a conversation without a word for God. 
— Rev. William Hail. 


It was his nature to avoid, rather than to seek, conspicuous 
position. He had that happy balance of faculties, that round- 
about common sense, that quick discernment of the best means to 
gain the best euds, which we call wisdom. His strong native en- 
dowments were subjected to a broad, generous, and continuous 
culture. He excelled as a naturalist, a linguist, a medical practi- 
tioner, as well as a theologian and preacher; and yet he could 
tell the story of the cross so simply and effectively as to meet the 
wants of those who were entirely unskilled in human learning. 
— Rev. Chalon Burgess, D.D. 


Mr. Wright loved study, but would instantly and cheerfully 
drop any interesting line of research with books or chemicals to 
listen to a tale of distress and to relieve suffering. Among his 
papers was found a scrap yellow with age, the ink faded, upon 
which was written in his own hand: ‘ Resolved, to let no day 
pass without speaking with some one on the matter of his soul’s 
salvation.” — Rev. Willis UC. Dewey, Mardin, Turkey in Asia. 


XX. 


CONCLUSION. 


HE foregoing pages present the Reservation life 
of the Iroquois in his Long House, under the 
influence of over a half century of Christlike patience 
and self-sacrificing effort on his behalf. I cannot 
close this record without adding my tribute to those 
already given; for to Mrs. Wright I owe a debt of 
gratitude which can be redeemed only by passing on 
the story of her saintly life for the inspiration of 
other Christian workers. 

During the many years that I was a member of 
Mrs. Wright’s family, I was impressed by her untiring 
devotion to the interests, temporal and spiritual, of 
the Indians. She had acquired a perfect command of 
the language, and the people, old and young, felt free 
to come to her with their joys and sorrows and per- 
plexities of every description. She never turned one 
away without a word of sympathy or advice. Mate- 
rial assistance was also given when needed. If any 
poor wretch was too repulsive to gain the hospitality 
of the Indian fireside, she was sure to find some snug 
corner at the Mission House, where, provided with 

317 


318 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


a blanket, he might be sheltered from the cold. But 
with all the comfort and relief she was sure to give 
a word of gospel truth, praying always that the con- 
stant seed-sowing might in time bring forth fruit. 
While her ears were open to their varied experiences, 
her hands were often busy at the same time preparing 
and distributing medicine for the sick. If the need 
were urgent, she never hesitated to give her personal 
ministrations in the most wretched of homes, where 
lives were saved and suffering lessened by her medical 
skill and careful nursing. 

With the care of a large house, and constant inter- 
ruptions from the lame, maimed, halt, and blind, and 
in fact ali who could find any excuse to throng her, 
Mrs. Wright found time to assist her husband in 
translating the Scriptures into the Indian language. 
She it was who furnished translations of some of our 
choicest hymns for the Indian hymnal. 

Although a center of sunshine and good cheer for 
missionaries and people, she impressed all who lived 
with her as spending much time in prayerful interces- 
sion for the people to whom she had given her life. 
Often when she thought herself alone I have heard her 
pleading with God that this and that sin might not be 
laid to their charge. Many a time I have heard her in 
the quiet night hours wrestling with God in agonized 


prayer for the salvation of these beloved Indians. 


CONCLUSION. 319 


Mrs. Wright had a habit of using odd moments for 
intellectual culture. In this way she kept abreast with 
the times. Her mind was unusually active, her intel- 
lect keen and clear to the last; her views of the vital 
questions of the day were expressed with rare in- 
sight and intelligence. Public men from Washington, 
Albany, and New York City, who came to the Reserva- 
tion upon official matters, considered it a privilege to 
secure an hour’s uninterrupted conversation with this 
woman. ‘They were never able to solve the mystery 
of her intelligent comprehension of the outside world, 
of which she had only occasional glimpses. 

When Mrs. Wright took the ten sick and _half- 
starved children into her family in 1855, and resolved 
to found an Indian Orphan Asylum, the plan met with 
very little encouragement from her friends; but in 
this, as in all other efforts, she never permitted herself 
to be discouraged by difficulties. Obstacles aroused 
a more fixed determination to press on. The Indian 
Orphan Asylum, with its cultivated acres and fine 
buildings, an ornament and a blessing to the whole 
Reservation, stands to-day as a memorial of two con- 
secrated lives. Because of the prayers and patient 
persistence of Mr. and Mrs. Wright, hundreds of 
Indian children have been sheltered, trained in useful 
habits, and brought into the fold of Christ. 

Before the popular wave of ‘‘ industrial education ” 


320 LIFE AMONG THE IROQUOIS. 


had begun to sweep over our land, Mrs. Wright had 
already inaugurated this movement among the Seneca 
Indians ; in connection with religious instruction, she 
commenced the experiment among the Indian women, 
who still clung to the pagan faith of their fathers. 
She gathered them about her and won their confidence 
by furnishing material which they were allowed to cut 
and make into garments for themselves and their chil- 
dren under instruction. While pleasantly occupied 
with their work she read and explained the Scriptures 
in their own language. She next procured govern- 
ment contracts to make garments for the western 
tribes. For this work, carried on under the same 
gospel influences, the Indian women received some 
compensation. 

In her old age she matured her last grand plan for 
the benefit of these people, for whom she had lived 
and toiled and prayed, over fifty years. The new 
plan was a ‘** Gospel Industrial Institute,” to include 
a high school, where the young people might complete 
their education at home. This plan included classes 
for boys in the various trades, and instruction for 
young girls in useful and domestic occupations. 
These classes were to be placed under the care of 
competent and Christian teachers, working in full har- 
mony with the missionaries. The institute was to 


include accommodations for the Young Men’s and 


CONCLUSION. 321 


Young Women’s Christian Associations, with a read- 
ing room and a well-selected library for the use of all 
Indians who could read English. She hoped by these 
means not only to save the young people, but to ele- 
vate them to a higher standard of living and to pre- 
pare them for citizenship in the near future. It was 
in the midst of this supreme effort that she heard the 
summons bidding her rest from her earthly labors and 
enter into the joy of her Lord. 


Is it not evident to every thoughtful friend of the 
Indian that such a plan of Gospret InpustriaL Epuca- 
TION, thoroughly carried into effect on every Reserva- 
tion in our land, would solve the Indian problem which 
confronts this nation to-day? 


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